The Second Thing
by Kazy
Summary: Team Arrow deals with the events from episode 309. Angst fest with a happy ending. Oliver/Felicity. No spoilers.
1. Part I — LEFT BEHIND

**And I'm BACK! As usual, this was supposed to be a short fic that dealt with Oliver's death and what our favorite couple's reunion could be like because it hurt too much (as much as the 41 days we had to wait) and then, obviously, it turned into a monster. This story is 93 pages long, and it'll be divided into 4 parts that should be updated very quickly (quicker than it took me to write it, that's for sure).**

**I've been so busy writing this story that I haven't been able to keep up with the spoilers. Therefore, I'm 99% sure that none of what is told in this fic is going to happen. But it doesn't hurt to try, heh? Also, it will hopefully help you wait for the three remaining days before the show is back on air. Beware of the massive angst. I am however guaranteeing a happy ending to that story, if only because I'm convinced that we won't get it soon enough on the show.**

**Thanks to Lily Anthea for testing the story and Mawwaw for editing my numerous mistakes.**

**Without further ado…**

**THE SECOND THING**

**PART I.**

**LEFT BEHIND**

"And the second thing?"

She almost forgets he mentioned two things. She's still focused on not clinging to him. Her mind is still fogged by the lingering kiss on her forehead. She wishes she'd had the strength to lift her head up. Kiss him on the mouth. But he probably still regrets kissing her at the hospital.

He turns to face her, and her breath catches in her chest. She can't be trembling, she has to be strong. She can't show him how terrified she is. Her eyes are misty, but Oliver looks confident. In peace. Which, she'll admit, scares her shitless.

"I love you."

She doesn't have time to choke; the words barely register in her brain. In a second, she's brought back to that moment in the mansion.

"_I love you."_

It echoes in her head, as the feeling of his lips against hers ghosts on her skin and the next thing she knows, Oliver is smiling at her, shouldering his bag and spinning on his heels like he's just going home after a hard day of work and he hasn't dropped a truth bomb on her. He walks towards the stairs as if he weren't walking to his death. He's said "I love you" again, and again he doesn't expect her to say it back, and she realizes that she was wrong earlier that day when she implied that Oliver regretted kissing her.

He is already walking away, fading from her view, and the words are fighting to come out of her mouth. _I love you too_, she wants to say, but they get caught in her throat because it sinks in that, truly, Oliver is saying goodbye and…

Her hands are ice cold. She's terrified.

His foot lands on the first step. He hasn't turned around, not even for a last look. He's not expecting her to say it back. If she says it back… What if he takes it as _her_ goodbye? What if she tells him and he accepts to die? What if he sees it as absolution for sacrificing himself? She can't help but hope that he wants to hear her say the words. That he didn't ask her to do it now so he would have a reason to come back to her.

Oliver opens the door that leads upstairs and Felicity's heart stops beating because this is it.

He's going to step away, and that might be the last memory she ever has of him.

Before she realizes it, she takes a step towards him, to beg him to wait, but the door closes and she finds herself alone, standing in the cold basement of the foundry, alone with the four words that she needs to hear herself say while he's still around.

"I love you too."

* * *

Diggle thinks that Felicity handles the whole thing pretty well for the first twenty-four hours. She keeps saying that Oliver can defeat Ra's Al Ghul, that he seemed really confident when they spoke, that she has faith in him and that he has so many incentives to come back.

"His sister, his city, his mission…"

Diggle doesn't tell her that she's probably the biggest incentive Oliver has because he's not sure where they left things at, if she believes that Oliver loves her, or if that won't make it worse if he doesn't return.

Roy nods every time Felicity says something about Oliver, about how the place he was supposed to go to must be far but she doesn't know where it is, but Diggle stays quiet. He kisses the top of Felicity's head, and hugs her side, but he has that gut feeling that he knows Felicity feels too.

Diggle knows deep down that Oliver will not be coming back.

He tells Roy to go hang out with Thea and stays in the foundry with Felicity while she rambles and looks at her programs. She's stuck in her head, her eyes looking nowhere, and he knows she's regretting things, that she's considering every outcome, playing out every "what if" in her head. It isn't healthy but the truth is, Diggle is doing the very same thing.

Maybe he should have forced his presence on Oliver. Maybe he should have been there for him, a silent vigil of support.

Diggle sighs, exhausted, around two a.m., and Felicity seems to be registering that it's really late. She tells him to go home to his baby and his fiancée, with a genuine smile that's somehow filled with as much happiness as it is with sadness.

"Only if you go home too," he states, staring at her sternly.

But Felicity shakes her head.

"I don't want him to be alone when he comes back."

She says it simply but she avoids his eyes and Diggle begins to think that Felicity really _does_ believe that Oliver will defeat Ra's Al Ghul. In fact, Diggle wonders if Felicity isn't in complete denial of the possibilities. He wonders if she has admitted to herself that she just can't fathom a world in which Oliver doesn't walk back through that door, back to her and if she's just holding onto that thought for dear life.

Diggle can't decide if it's admirable or tragic.

"_John… I don't wanna die down here."_

What an impressive idiot. Diggle wipes a hand over his face in exhaustion, cursing Oliver and his stupid stubbornness, then kisses Felicity's head once more.

"Let me know okay?" he tells her.

Felicity nods, saying nothing, but he doesn't miss the moisture in her eyes. He wants to stay with her, but Lyla is still very much in pain after her boomerang attack and baby Sara can feel all the anxiety. He presses Felicity's hand in support and goes home.

When he comes back early in the morning, he finds Felicity sitting up in the bed she bought for their leader, looking searchingly for Oliver, and his gut feeling worsens. The way her face falls upon seeing him breaks his heart, but it's nothing compared to how quickly she brushes her reaction away, smiling bravely, as if chiding herself for doubting Oliver even a second.

"Go back to sleep," Diggle tells her, but he knows it's in vain.

He tries to ignore how she jumps to her feet when the door opens again half an hour later to let Roy in. The truth is, he can't imagine what Felicity might be feeling when he, John Diggle, already feels crushed when he realizes it's not Oliver.

One look is all it takes for Roy to understand that his mentor isn't back. Felicity has already turned towards her computers. A second look at Diggle proves that he isn't the only one losing faith and growing scared of Felicity's potential reaction.

"No news, heh?" he asks anyway.

"He'll be back. It might take some time but he'll come back."

Her voice wavers. Diggle clenches his jaw, and forces a smile. They stay there in complete and heavy silence until one of her programs pings. It's an escape from Iron Heights. Felicity frowns, throws a yearning look at Oliver's suit in the case, then takes one deep breath and tells everyone where to go and what to do.

Roy gears up, and Diggle forgets for a second that Oliver isn't there. They do their usual thing, Roy stepping up impressively, staying very focused since he doesn't have his mentor watching out for him, Felicity's voice in their ears. It feels weird without their leader but it works out in the end. When they come back, Felicity is waiting for them and does her own usual thing: she checks them up, makes sure they're not too wounded. Her eyes linger behind Diggle's shoulder, where Oliver is supposed to be standing but she shakes her head briefly and walks back to her desk.

The fact that she stays quiet, for the first time in a day and a half, proves him that Felicity's genius brain can't rationalize why it's taking Oliver so long to come back. At that point, Diggle's stomach is one heavy twisted knot that makes him sick. He kind of chokes. It's too hot everywhere and his muscles ache all over.

The waiting is the worst. The not knowing part. It was the same thing with Andy. He remembers having the exact same reaction that day. An intuition of sorts that something was going to go wrong. But it can't happen twice, right? He's already lost one brother, he can't lose a second one, can he? Surely, fate wouldn't be that harsh. There had to be a point where they were cut some slack.

Focusing on Felicity allows him to ignore the pain that is spreading from his stomach to his loins, to the point where his own heart feels stuffed with cold. He notices that she's staring emptily at the fern she offered Oliver. Her eyes are distant again, while her fingers idly play with a leaf and her teeth bite her bottom lip. Roy is walking in circles, his arms folded across his chest.

"He has to come back," Felicity mutters suddenly.

Roy stops walking but doesn't look at her.

"You know Oliver will do anything to come back," Diggle says softly.

It's good to be comforting her. Comforting her means getting out of his own head, means shutting down his own growing pain.

"He told me he loved me. I didn't say it back on purpose."

Diggle can only tilt his head in surprise. _What_? Felicity turns empty eyes on him, and slowly they become alive with a terrible anxiety that hits Diggle immediately. The guilt and the worry is eating her from inside and she's grown terribly good at hiding it.

"I didn't say it back, because I didn't want him to think it was okay to die. But it was stupid, God, I'm so stupid. He wouldn't… What if he dies, Digg? What if he's dead? And I could have told him, and…"

Diggle's arm snakes around her waist and drags her against his chest. She doesn't sob, she doesn't crumble, she just holds onto him with all the despair that he realizes she's been fighting off since Oliver left her in the foundry two days before.

"He has to come back," she repeats, over and over, as if saying the words would magically make it true. "He has to come back."

"He'll do everything he can to come back to you, Felicity."

"And to Thea," she says selflessly. "And to Starling City. He isn't done. Starling still needs him. Thea still needs him."

Diggle hears the words she isn't saying. And he stays quiet while Felicity distances herself from him.

"Oliver wouldn't leave Thea alone knowing what Malcolm did to her. He just wouldn't. So he's taking a little time. It's okay. He's probably really hurt and tired so he's resting somewhere, and he has no way to contact us. I wish he'd taken a tracker with him, just for my peace of mind, but who's going to make Oliver do anything he doesn't want to do, right?"

Diggle offers a little smile and nods, while Roy pales. He looks at his wrist, and shakes his head.

"I have to work. I'm supposed to do the inventory with Thea."

Felicity nods distractedly. "Have a good day!"

The door opens, then closes behind Roy. Felicity goes back to staring at the fern, her hands folded in her lap. And the wait continues.

* * *

It's already nighttime when Felicity jumps to her feet. Diggle doesn't know how she knows, but she turns around slightly before the beep of the door rings and he registers how she isn't smiling hopefully. It's stupid but he so desperately wants to see the relief on Felicity's face. He wants to see how she's struck for a second, how she closes her eyes and sags a little bit in relief and then throws herself into Oliver's arms wordlessly. He wants to laugh at how adorably stupid they are, share a look with Oliver as he tells Felicity that he'd told her he could do it.

Diggle guesses that he wants a repetition of what happened the year before when Oliver had to fight their very first mirakuru soldier.

Exactly like a year before, Felicity is standing close to the stairs, looking at the person walking down them expectantly. But she doesn't seem relieved. She becomes steel, grounded, and stoic and Diggle knows in a second that she's understood what's coming. He spots Roy at the top of the stairs, and he knows he's figured it out too.

Nyssa Al Ghul is walking down the steps, her usual badass-looking cape floating behind her but there's no pep in her step.

She doesn't look driven, or defeated, or worried, or decided. She looks resigned, and if Diggle can say so, a little sad too.

There's a beat, the Assassin acknowledging the I.T girl's presence with gravitas.

"Oliver Queen is no longer," Nyssa declares solemnly, with the utmost respect. She stares at Felicity like she's the only one in the room. "You should know that he fought well. He died like a man."

The silence that follows is the sound of Felicity Smoak's heart shattering into a million pieces.

She looks into Nyssa's eyes the whole time, as the woman hands her the bag that Diggle remembers seeing Oliver pack. Felicity doesn't look away from Nyssa as her shaking arm takes the bag from Sara's former lover. He hears her gulp. Then she clenches her jaw and her eyes are as steely as her silhouette.

"Get out."

It's not a loud voice. It doesn't need to be. Nyssa nods quietly and turns around.

Nyssa's words echo in the foundry, but Felicity stays rooted to her spot staring emptily at the space the woman occupied a second before, and Diggle notices that she's started shaking slightly. The truth is, he can't believe it. He can't believe Oliver's dead. He can't believe he lost. The words are spinning in his head but he can't make sense of them yet.

Diggle opens his mouth to speak, when a program pings so loud the two men both jump. Automatically, Felicity spins around and walks towards the screen. One look. Diggle wonders how she does it, because he doesn't feel like he can deal with anything right now.

"Roy, time to suit up." Her voice is raspy, throaty and strained, but it's fierce.

"What? _Now_?" he asks, bewildered, looking at Diggle for support.

"Felicity, I don't think…"

"There's a robbery in the financial district." She adds stubbornly. "The mission is not over. You have to go."

He stares at her hands, still clinging on Oliver's handbag, and when she realizes what he's looking at she drops everything on the floor like it just burnt her and sits on her desk chair.

"Suit up," she repeats. "Now."

Roy and Diggle exchange a look, then sigh and do as they're told. They're barely efficient, stopping the criminals just in time, but they don't wait for Captain Lance to show up to flee the scene. Felicity barely speaks in their ear. It's sharp orders and cold words of worry, like she still cares but doesn't remember how. In the end, when she tells them to come home, her voice breaks on the last syllable.

When Diggle steps inside the foundry, the lights are off for the first time since he can remember.

Felicity is gone.

There's loam and terracotta spread all over the floor. Diggle's eyes follow the trail of dirt and land on the fern laying on the ground a few feet further.

It's completely destroyed.

* * *

"_Happy belated birthday!" she harrumphs as she pulls at the corners of her gift with as much strength as she can muster. _

_Why were those things so heavy? And tricky to handle?_

"_What?" Oliver jumps to his feet and stares in wonder as the mattress edges on a step and slides off the entire staircase, almost taking Felicity along as it fell._

_Her instincts save her when she placates herself against the railing as the poor thing falls flat on the floor between the stairs and Oliver, who obviously doesn't know how to react._

"_Okay, this was NOT supposed to happen this way. Why are mattresses so heavy?" Felicity sighs, annoyed._

_His eyes are still moving from his friend to his apparent gift._

"_Felicity, what is that?"_

_She looks at him like he's grown a second head, and it's totally not weird that people bring pieces of furniture to their secret vigilante lair. Or, as she calls it, the Arrow Cave (in secret, behind Oliver's back, but she's totally sure it's gonna catch on)._

"_Duh, it's a bed. Well. No, technically it's a mattress but Roy is carrying the box with the actual frames and stuff. Which, come to think of it, wasn't the best idea."_

_Just as she finishes her sentence, Roy appears at the top of the stairs and looks at Felicity with a dismissive shake of his head. She shrugs apologetically. So, what if Roy had been right? Maybe it was a non-Christmas miracle._

"_Why are you bringing a mattress down here?" Oliver presses as Felicity bends down to pull the object of confusion up, struggling in her high heels. "And why is there a little bow on it?" he can't help but chuckle._

_Felicity's grin is very self-satisfied, and she takes delight when she notices that Oliver mirrors it almost instantly._

"_Well, we missed your birthday because of, you know, crazy mirakuru people attacking your city followed by freaky trips to deserted islands and, incidentally, lots of puking on my part. TMI. That was TMI, right? Anyhow, your date of birth went totally under the radar and that sucks because your birth is a good thing and we need good things to celebrate, okay?"_

_She sees Oliver blink at the amount of words that have come out of her mouth, while the corner of his lift up slightly._

"_And what makes you think I want a bed for my birthday?"_

_Roy is dropping the box on the floor while Felicity manages to settle the mattress against Oliver's glass cases. _

"_Oh, I'm pretty sure you don't want a bed. But you most definitely need one: the Arrow can't possibly sleep on the floor and expect to be taken seriously. What would the criminals of the city say if they knew that?"_

"_They probably don't care," Oliver argued cleverly. "Where do you even think this is going to fit?"_

_Felicity hesitates between feeling offended and proud of herself._

"_Oh ye of little faith!" she exclaims dramatically, punching Oliver's rock solid biceps and hurting herself a little. Not that she'll let him know (she can tell he's noticed though. But whatever)._

"_Seriously? How did you not notice her measuring every damn corner of the place?" Roy grumbles._

_Felicity and Oliver shrug at the same time, and she knows what he's going to say before he even opens his mouth._

"_She's been re-doing the foundry for two years. Felicity's always measuring stuff for new furniture."_

_She doesn't tell him that she knows the right measurements of his salmon ladder because that'd be weird. Right? Which, oddly, brings her back to…_

"_Where is Diggle? He was supposed to get you out of here while Roy and I set the bed up. I even bought sheets!"_

"_Of course you did," he deadpans, and she doesn't know if he's amazed or amused. "Lyla called. Weird pregnant reactions or something. He didn't exactly elaborate. That would have been TMI," he teases (she's still trying to get used to that newfound aspect of Oliver's personality. She still can't tell if he makes jokes on purpose or not)._

"_Oh. Hey! Where are you going?" she asks as Roy tries to sneak out of the room. The poor guy looks defeated and adamant at the same time._

"_I mean… You don't really need me anymore, since it's no longer a surprise or anything. Oliver's a grown man, he can build his own bed!"_

_Felicity opens her mouth in slight outrage. "But! It's a gift! He's not going to set up his own gift! It ruins the entire principle of the gift! I know I said gift three times, it's important."_

_Roy levels Felicity with a glare that he's been sporting for the past two months. She knows very well what it means, and it makes her cheeks flush because it's the one he uses when he can no longer handle Oliver and her when they engage in weird, flirtatious banter. Even she can't handle it sometimes._

"_You went to M.I.T. You can probably handle an IKEA bed on your own."_

"_But it says it needs two people on the box!"_

"_It's okay, Felicity, I'm sure we can handle it," Oliver intervenes, prompting Roy to raise his eyebrow as if to say 'see? Told you'. "Thank you."_

_And then Oliver does the weirdest thing and kisses her on the cheek. Her next words of annoyance aimed at Roy die in her throat while the kid huffs and spins on his heels._

"_Yeah, I'm outta here. Enjoy the gift."_

_He mutters something that sounds a little bit like "leaving mom and dad alone" but she's not so sure, because the sound of her heart beating in her ears kind of overwhelms her for a second. Oliver has already turned to face the box Roy brought down and is opening it._

"_Please tell me you didn't put bows on every part of the thing…" he mutters as he takes another one down._

_She smiles impishly at him. "Roy wouldn't let me. Said I was denying your manhood or something."_

"_I'll thank him later."_

* * *

Felicity sniffs and knocks on the door of the apartment, wondering oddly how the words are going to come out of her mouth. She has turned her phone off and she knows it's a dick move because Digg is going to be terrified after what Nyssa just told them but she can't handle anyone else's emotions right now.

She doesn't want Ray to call again, or ping her phone, she doesn't want Diggle to know where she is, she wants to… She wants to handle it the way she needs.

When Felicity got the news that Cooper had hung himself in his cell five years prior, she'd been crushed. Guilt, pain, love, loss, all of it had melted together. It was all her fault, and he'd paid the ultimate price, so the best way she could honor his sacrifice was to be the best person she could be from that day on.

Now, faced with the death of a man she had not even been dating, she just feels angry and bitter. There's guilt, and pain, and loss and love but mostly, it's all bubbling under a thick layer of hatred, of rage, of a sense of unfairness that is threatening to consume her if she didn't do anything. And she knows someone who will understand completely how she feels. Someone who is going to be sourer, more pained, more bitter than Felicity feels because she's pretty sure Oliver didn't say goodbye to her.

She can't help but think he didn't because he really thought he'd be back. Felicity doesn't know if that makes her feel better or worse. She can't tell the difference between either right now.

Laurel's door swings open and she immediately knows something is wrong.

Laurel is the woman Oliver loved most of his life. She has already lost him once, thought he was dead and dealt with it (sort of). Considering her reaction when Tommy passed away, Felicity isn't sure how Laurel is going to handle losing Oliver but the truth is, she doesn't care. Focusing on someone else's reaction sounds like a blessing because the turmoil of emotions that is overpowering Felicity doesn't seem manageable right now.

"What is it?" Laurel asks without missing a beat. "What's wrong?"

Felicity gulps and opens her mouth at the same time, as Nyssa's words ring back in her mind.

"_Oliver Queen is no longer."_

"It's Oliver," she says, and she has to clear her throat, brace herself for the next words.

"_You should know that he fought well. He died like a man."_

Like a man. How do you die like a man? What does that even mean? As opposed to what? He could have died like a woman? Like an animal? Again, a wave of anger and hatred overwhelms her for a second but it's almost instantly replaced by an abysmal feeling of endless sadness.

"_This… This life that I've chosen… It only ends one way."_

Screw you, Oliver Queen.

Laurel opens her mouth, because she doesn't seem to understand.

"Is he hurt?" she asks, already spinning on her heel to grab her purse behind her door. "What happened? Is it his knee again?"

Felicity gulps.

"_Oliver Queen is no longer."_

"He's dead, Laurel."

Her voice is so empty, even Felicity doesn't recognize it. She's almost convinced there's a third person with them.

"What?" Laurel breathes out.

Felicity blinks. Something moist is pricking her eyes and she can't see clearly anymore. She hadn't even realized she'd started crying.

"He was killed," she specifies, because it suddenly dawns on her that no one told Laurel about the new developments. "Yesterday, I think. By Ra's Al Ghul."

"What?" Laurel repeats in utter shock, her purse falling from her arm in a clinging noise that neither hears. "Why? Why would he even…? I don't understand…"

Felicity stares at Oliver's former lover, and she wants to laugh humorlessly. Because Thea trusted Merlyn. Because he manipulated everyone so Oliver would try to kill the only person the mad man fears. Because Thea killed Sara, and if the League knew they'd kill her and Oliver sacrificed himself so she could live.

What is she even supposed to say? Considering her reaction when Roy thought he'd killed Sara, Felicity doesn't trust what Laurel will do if she tells her the complete naked truth. All in all, it isn't Thea's fault.

She goes with an edited version, a great lie by omission that comes way more easily than she thought it would.

"Because the League wanted to punish Sara's death and Oliver didn't have a name to give them. Ra's Al Ghul was going to execute him for his failure, but he challenged him with a trial by combat." She forgets to take a breath. Her head is spinning. She chuckles, painfully, soullessly. "Oliver lost."

There's another heavy silence during which Laurel grips the doorframe as her knees buckle a little.

"He sacrificed himself?" she utters in a high-pitched breath.

"It's Oliver," Felicity half-shrugs, wiping a tear on her cheek. "Was. _Was_ Oliver. We don't have a body to bury." She muses emptily, as the thought occurs to her. "Do you think the League will hand it back? I don't know how to contact Nyssa. What if we have no body to bury? What did you do last time?"

Laurel blinks repeatedly, like she didn't remember that it's not the first time Oliver has died. There has to be some irony in all of this but Felicity can't figure it out completely.

"Moira had tombstones installed in the garden of the mansion. She took Oliver's out when he came back."

"_This… This life that I've chosen… It only ends one way."_

Felicity blinks, as the tears in Laurel's eyes are joined by a new shade of pain.

"Thea…" she murmurs throatily.

"Can you tell her?" Felicity asks, because deep down she might have gone to Laurel so she wouldn't have to deliver the news to Oliver's sister.

She doesn't trust herself to not yell at her that Malcolm is responsible for all the pain that she's experiencing. Malcolm had Robert killed. Malcolm is responsible for Tommy dying. Malcolm is responsible for Oliver living in hell for five years. And Malcolm is now responsible for killing her last remaining family.

"I just told her about Sara…" Laurel keeps on going, talking to no one in particular. "She was so hurt and shocked… I don't think…"

Her eyes are so distant with the memory that she misses how Felicity flinches when she hears Thea and Sara's names in the same sentence.

"She deserves to know," Felicity grounds out spontaneously.

She already doesn't understand how Laurel can keep her sister's death from her father and look him in the eyes on a daily basis. She won't do that to Thea. She has a right to mourn her brother. She has a right to know what happened to him, and why, and how.

Not the whole version because damn, that would finish her off. But a cleverly edited version.

"You're right."

"It'll be best coming from you," Felicity insists, but again she's not sure it's her because the voice is empty. "She knows you. You and Oliver have history and she needs to hear it from someone who was that important to him."

Laurel gulps and smiles sadly. "You and I both know I wasn't on the top of that list anymore, Felicity."

She shrugs, refusing to hear from yet another person how much Oliver loved her, and how he would go to the end of Earth and back for her. She doesn't need to hear it. Because in the end, it's not true, is it? He's not back. And it's not like she can blame him for that.

There's only one person she can blame, really. One person responsible for all the heartache and the pain and the hatred.

"It doesn't matter. I have to go."

She doesn't really have to go, but she can't be standing there talking about Oliver being dead any longer, and not scream the place down. She's told someone. The news will spread, and she can focus on something else. She can focus on finding a way to keep going when nothing makes sense anymore.

"Are you going to be okay?" Felicity can't help but ask.

She's this close to asking Laurel whether she's going to be drinking and doesn't know where she finds the strength to shut her mouth. She's glad she manages though, because the words would be uselessly mean and unhelpful and she doesn't need to take her anger out on Laurel.

"I— I don't know. What about you?"

Laurel isn't the one responsible for Oliver's death, Felicity repeats in her head as she walks away with a sad smile as an answer. Laurel isn't responsible for Oliver's death.

"_And the second thing?"_

"_I love you."_

Or for Felicity's regrets.

* * *

When she gets home, Diggle is waiting for her and for a second she thinks it's because he wants to check up on her. But then she sees how devastated he looks, how utterly broken he appears and she realizes that he's the one who needs her. They stand there, looking at each other for a full minute and then Diggle's eyes fill up with tears, his face crumbles and what little is left of Felicity's soul crushes.

Oddly, it feels good to see John cry because she doesn't feel like she can express any emotion. It's still bubbling inside but as long as someone cries and looks shocked, she feels like _she_'s reacting. It takes two steps for her to reach John and hug him tight.

"Where have you been?" he mumbles, still hugging her.

She sniffs, and tries to smile as he takes a step away from her.

"At Laurel's. She'll be telling Thea. I… I don't know how to tell Captain Lance because… How do I do that without coming clean about Sara?"

She can feel Diggle's gaze on the back of her head as she tries to unlock her front door.

"Have you told Lyla?" she asks distractedly.

"Yeah, I called her. I told her I'd be home soon. I wanted to check up on you."

Felicity drops her keys in the bowl next to her door and turns on the light, stepping inside her warm place. Heh. Nothing has changed inside. Still the same as two mornings ago, when she left it in a hurry to go to work. Her world is turned upside down, but on the outside, everything remains the same. There is something reassuring to this, she guesses.

"I'll be fine, Digg. Go home to your family."

"You _are_ part of my family, Felicity."

She turns to face him as she takes off her coat and attempts to smile again. She feels so tired, suddenly.

"I've been there, remember? Dead boyfriend? It's happened to me before. I handled it fine the first time so this time? Piece of cake, probably. Because he wasn't even my boyfriend. So it should be… you know… Not easier because he's still… but…"

She trails off, gulping, forgetting what she wanted to say, and looks blankly at her kitchen barstool, not really seeing it. What was she going to say again? Diggle wipes his face with a tired hand, and sighs.

"Do you want to sleep at my place tonight? I don't want you to be alone."

Felicity doesn't know why she chuckles. But she does, and then she bites her lips.

"Believe it or not, I'm used to sleeping alone in my bed. Today's news sadly doesn't change any of that. Thanks for worrying about me but it's not necessary. I'll handle it. I'm better at doing this kind of thing alone, you know?"

"You don't have to…"

"Actually, I do. That's how I deal with this kind of news. By listening to shitty songs like All by Myself and Total Eclipse of the Heart and by watching the saddest movies ever. I'm probably gonna watch A Walk to Remember or PS I Love You. You know? See tragic love stories. Trying to put things in perspective. I mean, he survived so many times… it's not like brain tumors or cancers where you have hope for the longest time and then it's all ripped away. Right? So I'll focus on people really miserable, and I'll see that they come out the other way so me too. Eventually."

Diggle is staring at her like she's turned crazy.

"It happened _today_, Felicity. No one expects you to be okay tomorrow…"

But she turns her back to him again, bending down to take off her shoes.

"Yes, actually. Starling City does. Because they can never know about Oliver Queen."

"What?"

Only then does she dare look him in the eye. She thought it over in the car. It's obvious.

"We have to keep going. You're probably going to have to wear his green suit, which I know you hate doing and I'm sorry about that. But Oliver Queen can't disappear at the same time as the Arrow. And Starling City still needs a hero. We aren't done."

"Oliver's gone, Felicity, we aren't…"

"_Yes_, we _are_. We're not stopping. Or _you_ can, I guess, but I'm not stopping. I know Roy won't stop. Laurel will probably want to give a hand."

And there's Ray's suit. Felicity has formulated a plan. She's not going to tell them right away, because she's not sure how long it will take to fully develop Ray's idea for the A.T.O.M suit, but if she develops it the right way, she can give it to Roy so he doesn't get hurt. It'll have to do for now, but hopefully soon enough she'll be able to hand him a way to be invincible.

In the meantime, she'll be able to find their next target.

"Still," Diggle insists. "We can take a few days to figure things out, take a step back and regroup."

"Tell that to the bad guys!"

"I don't care about the bad guys," he raises his voice. "Felicity, dammit, don't do this! Oliver wouldn't…"

"Don't you dare," Felicity snaps her head at him. "Don't you dare use him as an argument to regroup. Not only is it insulting, you and I both know _he_ of all people wouldn't take the time off. He didn't for Sara. I didn't understand why then, but I do now and the least we can do is not let his mission down."

"By getting Roy killed? He doesn't have his head in the game, Felicity! He's crushed, so am I and there is no way Roy can handle Oliver's spot right now! He needs time! And frankly, so do you."

Felicity clenches her jaw and steps towards the door, opening it widely.

"Thanks again for the concern, Digg. Kiss Lyla and baby Sara for me."

Digg stares at her like he's seeing her for the first time and shakes his head. When he reaches her, he looks devastated and there's a wave of guilt that threatens to swallow her whole. He can read her better than… well, better than anyone on Earth, now. He knows why she's being so stubborn and maybe deep down he understands all of it way more than she does. He hesitates, but kisses the top of her head (thank god, not her forehead) and squeezes her shoulder.

"You can drop by my place any time, okay? I don't care what time it is. Just come."

She means to say thank you but there's too much lump blocking her throat and she can only nod.

She barely has time to close the door before she needs to press her back to it and suddenly she can't fight anything anymore. It's like her body has been waiting for her to be at that exact spot, shut off from the world in her own personal fortress of solitude, because her face crumbles, her body shakes, and Diggle's words resonate in her, her forehead is pricking and everything _hurts_.

She slides along the door and manages to keep all the sobs inside, but her elbow knocks the little table where her keys are and when the bowl and the table break, it feels as good as when the fern splattered on the floor.

"_And the second thing?"_

"_I love you."_

Her arms circle her legs as her head falls against her knees. And the words spin in her head, endless, like a broken record. Just like she feared, her brain is stuck on the sight of his back as he was walking away from her.

"_I love you."_

He didn't even give her time to reply. What was she supposed to do? Jump on him, tackle him to the ground and tell him she loved him too? He didn't even wait for an answer! He didn't want an answer! Why? Was it proof that he knew he wouldn't come back? Proof that he thought he would?

Fuck you, Oliver Queen.

Fuck you.

"_And the second thing?"_

"_I love you."_

Or was it because he thought she wouldn't say it back, even if he stayed? Did he think she didn't love him?

There's something in her chest where her heart used to be, but it's just a never-ending ache that won't ebb away, a lingering pain that makes her want to crawl out of her skin. To hurt herself outside so it hurts less inside.

Felicity begins to idly wonder how all of this began. This shitty feeling was there even before Oliver knew two things. Before he had to leave. Before he stopped trying. She could handle the break up, because they'd barely started and she is used to not getting what she wants.

No. The despair and the fear began when they walked down those stairs three months ago. When they spotted the face of a woman Oliver loved with her eyes still open in shock, and Oliver admitted quietly that Sara's fate would soon be his and that was the true reason why he couldn't be with Felicity.

"_This… This life that I've chosen… It only ends one way."_

It was stupid, telling him she wasn't going to wait for death with him, like it meant that she would stop having feelings for him. First of all, it was a total lie otherwise she wouldn't be lying on the floor in front of her door like a pathetic teenage girl. Maybe she should have tried to change his mind that day. Maybe she should have fought for him.

He didn't even die as a vigilante, it occurs to her. It wasn't even the life that he'd chosen that had gotten him killed. It was his sister's choice to trust Malcolm.

Malcolm.

She can channel her hatred and her rage towards him, but she knows deep down that there's nothing she can do against that poor excuse of a human being. Not only is he too strong and too crazy for her to handle him, he's also pretty smart. But mostly, as of today, Malcolm Merlyn is the last remaining member of Thea's family and Felicity knows the pain of having no father too much to try and actively destroy him.

She might feel consumed by rage and pain, but she can't bring herself to destroy Thea's life further. And Felicity is also pretty sure that Malcolm knew as well as she did that Oliver would never even contemplate the thought of risking a hair of his sister's. Using Thea was a necessary bet on Malcolm's part, a very slight risk to take for the world's craziest father.

He probably thought Oliver stood a chance. Otherwise, why even take all these risks?

Felicity wonders what Oliver's goodbye to Thea sounded like. Did she have any idea what he was truly saying? Would she look back on their last moment thinking that she had so many things to tell him and be angry because he didn't even give her a chance to say what she needed to?

"_But I do know two things — the first is that whoever I am, I am someone that will do whatever — _whatever_ — it takes to save my sister."_

Maybe she can tell Thea that he said that. That he loved her beyond anything. Anyone. She doesn't know how, without blowing Oliver's secret. But she can figure it out.

"_And the second thing?"_

Felicity curls up on the floor, and resists the need to vomit.

"_I love you."_

She shouldn't have asked.

* * *

The second day is the slowest. Everything goes in slow motion. Waking up. Retching. Going to work. Putting her head in Ray's project. Forgetting to eat. Not being hungry anyway. Looking for solutions to develop his suit. Dismissing his worry when she doesn't smile, doesn't respond, doesn't speak. Hesitating around five. Staying until seven. Taking her car. Parking in front of Verdant.

She's done this before, she has to remind herself. Walk to Verdant, knowing that Oliver is not anywhere close to being there. Okay, it was two years ago when they were barely even friends and she was just crushing on him (as opposed to full on head over heels in love with him). And she knew in the back of her mind that he was alive. Somewhere. As opposed to completely dead, killed by the leader of a group called the League of Assassins.

But then, she reminds herself that she didn't know Laurel, Roy was just Thea's boyfriend, and it was just Diggle and her. She's not alone. And they probably need her to keep her shit together.

She's so nervous when she reaches the door that leads to the Arrow Cave that she has to type the code in three times to get it right. As she takes the first step on the stairs, Felicity hears the sound of flesh against the bars, the effort and the breaths of someone training and she stutters and hates herself for the slight pang of hope that fleets for a second.

It's Roy. Roy is training against a dummy, focused, and sweaty, and bare-chested, Oliver-style, and there's a violence to his punches that didn't used to be there. And exactly the way seeing Diggle's face crumbled the night before soothed her, witnessing the anger and the determination on Roy's face makes her feel slightly better.

He notices her presence right away, and the look of despair he throws her way takes her by surprise. He hoped Oliver would walk back too. She's not alone, she reminds herself. They need her to keep it together.

"Hey," he says lamely.

Felicity tries to smile, but it seems like she can't do it anymore so she just nods in his direction.

"Ready to kick some serious ass?" she asks, her voice hurting.

"Diggle said…" Roy begins.

"Diggle isn't here," Felicity cuts. "Do you want to kick some bad guy's butt or do you need to regroup?"

Roy doesn't even take a second to think.

"Ass kicking. Definitely."

Felicity nods, and takes her usual seat. She's trying to get used to the pang in her chest when she hears the beep of the door opening and she can feel Diggle coming down and sighing upon seeing Roy gearing up. His aura reeks of disapproval and anger, but he doesn't say anything. John walks to the third drawer, takes a gun, and looks at Felicity.

"Where to?" he asks.

There's a pinging noise, a notification appearing on her screen, and without skipping a beat Felicity answers.

"Corner of Adams and Washington. It looks like three guys."

The boys come back two hours later, the three guys tied up after getting their asses handed to them. Diggle and Roy come back to the Arrow Cave looking more defeated than ever. Worst thing is: Felicity feels the same. She's desperately looking for another robbery. An attack. A criminal that has escaped.

But there's nothing and the emptiness creeps back in, threatening to turn her crazy. They call it a night. Roy passes a hand over the glass case where they keep the green Arrow outfit on his way out, which Felicity refuses to witness. Diggle stares at it for the longest time, as if the mannequin was going to morph into Oliver and fill it up.

"My offer still stands," Diggle whispers eventually.

Felicity nods distractedly — that's all she feels capable of doing. After another soul wrecking sigh, Diggle detaches himself from the med bed and heads out, leaving Felicity alone in the room. The last time she was there by herself, her eyes had fallen on her stupid gift, this ridiculous fern she'd offered. He'd kept it. He'd kept the bed even though he had repeated endlessly that he didn't need one. He kept everything she gave him.

"_I love you."_

Felicity closes her eyes as hard as she can, trying to wipe out the words from her memory.

"_And the second thing?"_

Shut up, Felicity. You should have shut the hell up.

"_I love you."_

She gulps, hits the desk with her fist to distract her brain and propels herself upward. She can't stay here. Not by herself. Not anymore. Her sight is blurred all the way up the stairs, through the empty club, and probably through the drive to Queen Consol— _Palmer Technologies_ that she doesn't remember anyway.

There's work to do.

* * *

The night after that they almost don't find the time to get out to fight crime. Felicity comes back from work late, exhausted and irritated to find Roy working out again and Diggle waiting for her in her seat, probably to talk. She dismisses his concerns with a stern voice and he backs off but Felicity knows she's only won this round.

A few minutes later, a disheveled Thea sets camp in front of the door that leads to the basement of Verdant, eyeing the camera and saying that she knows they're here, and repeating it more and more angrily until Felicity has no other option but to let her in. Laurel arrives literally five minutes later to apologize, saying she's been trying to warn them for hours now.

What follows is a general mess of shouting, where Thea lashes out about being lied to her entire life. The words don't impact Felicity at all — to be truthful, she doesn't even hear the content of her sentences — but Thea expresses everything she has inside, her emotions are so raw that Felicity finds it resting, cathartic.

Roy takes all of Thea's spite and anger without a grunt, while Laurel and Diggle fight each other verbally, throwing responsibility at the other for revealing Oliver's secret, but Felicity stays there watching the young, lonely girl shout that they must have had fun all these years, deceiving her and keeping all these secrets from her, thinking she was an idiot.

All in all, Felicity doesn't think Thea's wrong. She has so many reasons to be angry. Her brother just died and Laurel didn't know how to answer all her questions so she went with the truth, and Thea is left all alone to reconcile her memories of her brother before the island, after the island, and this persona that apparently everyone knew about but her. Felicity's always understood Oliver's reasons for not telling Thea but she also understands why the young woman would feel like an idiot for never figuring it out and be seething at the unfairness of the world, replaying every interaction she had with Oliver in a new light now that she knows that he was the Arrow, now that she knows that he is dead.

Oliver is dead.

Something in her chest sinks to the bottom of her stomach.

Everyone is speaking at the same time, the voices turning into some background noise that helps Felicity's brain press pause when Thea's anger turns into full on bitterness.

"Malcolm was right: all the Queens know is how to lie."

There's a sudden anvil of silence that settles in the foundry, silence only broken by Felicity's boiling blood pulsating in her ears. And the feelings that have been bubbling deep down inside of her begin to surface like a tidal wave that Felicity can no longer fight.

It's everything in that sentence that unleashes Felicity's own wrath at the situation and the last memories she has of the man that she loves.

_Loved_.

"_But I do know two things — the first is that whoever I am, I am someone that will do whatever — _whatever_ — it takes to save my sister."_

"He died to save _you_."

For the first time in three days, Felicity's voice is as strong as concrete. Unwavering. Stable. All heads turn in her direction, all eyes land on her face. She doesn't care. She takes a step, and the boiling anger gets injected in her words.

"_You_ were in the crossfire. He was given a choice. He either fought Ra's Al Ghul or Starling City was set on fire and _you_ were executed."

Laurel gasps, while Thea looks like a deer caught in headlights, and maybe Felicity isn't being fair but she finds out: she really, really doesn't give a rat's ass right now. There's nothing fair about this situation. And she's keeping so many secrets from everyone that she feels swallowed whole by them.

So screw unfairness. Screw everything. She loses herself in her indignity at the injustice that Thea will never understand fully. She's lost in the anger that the young woman will never know that he loved her so much that he let her father off the hook, and loyalty means that he forced that choice onto his teammates too.

So yeah. Unjust doesn't even begin to cover the situation.

"You can bitch about being lied to all you want but your brother _sacrificed_ himself so _you_ would live. Even after you left to Corto Maltese. Even after he figured out that you lied about seeing Malcolm. Even after he realized you were clearly trained by him. He didn't care. He loved you."

Thea's eyes are filling with tears, but Felicity doesn't register it.

"_And the second thing?"_

"_I love you."_

"He _loved_ _YOU_."

Felicity chokes on the last word. She doesn't know who the "you" stands for at that point.

She feels the sobs in her chest and stops breathing to contain them. She doesn't remember raising her finger to point at Thea, who shrinks on herself when she takes a step in her direction.

"Everything he did, even the lying, he did for _you_. Trust me, there are things you do not want to know; a part of your innocence you are not ready or willing to lose. He tried to stop the Undertaking, confronting your mother and trying to fix your father's mistake after five years of hell disconnected from his humanity. He stopped Slade when everyone was crushed by your mother's death and you had shut him off completely. He saw both his parents getting killed in front of him, two of his girlfriends dying before his eyes and he always did everything he could to protect you. You have every right to be angry and bitter and enraged, because the situation _sucks_."

She takes a breath, her head spinning, her vision blurry once again.

"But I will not stand there and listen to you insult your brother's legacy."

There's a short beat, then all the fight leaves her and Felicity sinks in her chair. She needs a distraction before everything spins out of control and swallows her completely.

"Roy, ready to gear up for patrol?"

He gulps audibly, but nods anyway. Felicity's blinking back tears but there are too many and a few run down her cheeks. She wipes them immediately.

"There needs to be a sight of the Arrow tonight," she forces herself to say. "The green version, I mean. Not Arsenal."

Her voice is shaking. She knows Diggle hates wearing the green outfit. Never mind the fact that he'll be the only version of the Arrow that can't even hold a bow correctly, he always found the concept of suits ridiculous.

"I told my dad for Ollie," Laurel explains quietly. "Not for the Canary nor the Arrow."

"The Canary?" Thea murmurs.

"Sara," Roy clarifies.

"Sara was the…? Oh. _Oh_."

Felicity doesn't need to turn to know the face Thea is currently making. The "everything has just become so clear" face that she sported two years before when Oliver was in the backseat of her car.

"And if we want to keep his secret from spreading, the Arrow needs to be seen even after you told your dad."

Felicity refuses to look at Diggle.

"I don't think it's a good idea," he says.

"Well, I'd do it but you and I both know no one would take it seriously," Felicity snarks irately. She throws an irritated glare at John who looks even more worried than before. "It's just patrol. People need to know that the fight doesn't stop. Do you want to join, Laurel? We might need some reinforcement."

Everyone looks at her in surprise (shock, and worry too), then Laurel somberly nods while Diggle's jaw clenches in disapproval.

Diggle opens the case, frustrated, and takes the Arrow suit out of the box. When he reappears, Laurel looks shaken to her core and Roy gulps again. He takes the bow, and the three adults leave Felicity and Thea in the cold place by themselves. She gives them directions, and leaves the comms open, while Thea observes everything.

"Ollie said the basement was filled with water," she muses, shaking her head after ten minutes of silence.

Felicity doesn't respond.

Ollie.

"_I thought that I could be me and the Arrow."_

Who was "me"? Oliver? Ollie? Hadn't Ollie died with his father?

"He learnt all his ninja moves on the island?" Thea pushes, taking Felicity out of her head.

"Yeah."

"It explains so much. I don't know how I didn't… I mean…"

"Don't beat yourself up. You weren't supposed to know. Ever."

He would be so mad if he knew Thea had been told. Oliver would take everyone's head off if he could. It makes her feel a little better, if she's being honest with herself. Maybe that was a way for Laurel to get revenge on Oliver for dying. Again. Tell his sister his secret. Felicity can't say she blames her. Deep down, maybe she's a little glad that he'd be pissed. She doesn't see why she should be the only one feeling this way.

"What a jerk." Thea spits. But her face morphs immediately. "I can't… I can't believe he's… Are you sure?"

She doesn't want to talk. Much less about that day. Even less about that topic. But Felicity understands that Thea needs answers.

"Nyssa wouldn't lie. Not about this, the League is pretty old school about honor and… stuff. I'm trying to find a way to reach her, ask her for…" Her voice breaks. She can't say it this time. She can't tell Thea she wants to see Oliver's body, three days after he's been dead.

So she stays quiet. She observes the new version of Team Arrow in action. Everything goes well, the night is pretty calm and quiet — barely any thug needing to get their ass kicked. Diggle calls it a night after three hours walking in the cold.

She knows none of them are beaten up, none of them are sporting any bruise, but Felicity waits for them to come back with a thudding heart. She can't admit how thankful she is when she notices that Diggle has taken the top of the suit off outside. One look lets her know that he did it on purpose, to spare her and again a pang of guilt stabs her chest.

They get dressed into their normal attire, then Roy walks Thea home with a sad smile while Laurel thanks them for letting her help. Diggle lingers in a corner, waiting in the deafening silence that suddenly oppresses them.

Felicity stays seated for a minute, considering her options for the night (going to Palmer Tech or staying in the Arrow Cave to look for Nyssa) then stands to tidy the cave like she often does when her eyes catches a green spot in the area where Diggle keeps his bags and she stops dead in her tracks.

It's the fern that she destroyed the first night.

She can't believe Diggle kept it after cleaning after her. Felicity stares at it, thunderstruck, the sight stirring a dangerous mixture of repressed feelings that suddenly burst open and the bubbles of emotions aren't just bubbles anymore. They're the same tidal wave that overcame her a few hours before and this time, Felicity has no strength, no capacity to keep them at bay.

She looks at the fern, and she's swallowed by the same need to destroy it as before, except she can't. She can't do it again.

She _can't_ do it again.

Her face crumbles and her knees buckle but Diggle is there in a second, holding her like he's been waiting for this moment since the beginning and she's pretty sure he cries along with her.

She doesn't know why the fact that he kept the fern is so important to her, why she's so relieved and hurt at the same time. It's just a fern.

(except it's not just a fern and Diggle knows it. She knows it.)

"_And the second thing?"_

Felicity weeps in Diggle's shirt, her glasses pressing painfully in her skull as she buries her head against his chest and finally accepts that Oliver's never going to wear the suit again, that he will never grin at her again, that he won't ever snap at her, or squeeze her shoulder, or kiss her forehead, or give her time to say the words back.

Her body is wracked with painful sobs, as she finally lets the words out.

"I loved him too."

Diggle holds her tighter.

"I know," he says in her ear. "I know."

That night, Felicity sleeps on Diggle's couch.

[**NEXT:** PART II — THE HOPE]

* * *

Next chapter will have some Oliver. (and more angst) But I can promise you the happy ending.

I hope that you liked that first part! Let me know what you thought. And see you soon for part II!


	2. Part II — THE HOPE

**Thank you so much for the delightful response to this story and the overall support! Be prepared: this chapter is huge, and (hopefully) full of emotions. Thanks again to Mawwaw for beta-ing the story and Lily Anthea for testing it.**

**THE SECOND THING**

**PART II.**

**THE HOPE**

"_Mommy, do you think I can get a little brother for Christmas?"_

_His mom smiles, and threads a hand through his hair tenderly. He tries to keep his eyes open but he's getting really sleepy because it's late and the gala was boring. Tommy says if he keeps asking, he won't get the usual 'we might consider it once you're less of a handful' answer that his father says with a fond laugh. He doesn't really get it._

"_Not this Christmas, honey. But we really want you to have a little brother or sister."_

_It's the first time his mother says that he's been good enough to get a sibling. Sleep has disappeared from his eyes, and he looks at his mother like Santa just came early._

"_So I'm gonna get one? When?"_

"_Well, it's going to take a while before the baby arrives. So you're going to have to be patient, okay? And keep in mind: it might not be a baby brother."_

"_It's okay. I'll teach her how to fight and how to get cookies from Raisa when you're not…"_

_His mother's eyebrows rise on her forehead and the boy tries to look a little sheepish._

"_You'll make an awesome big brother Oliver. Now go to sleep."_

_He smiles when his mother kisses his cheek, and snuggles his nose against his huge teddy bear. He can't wait to tell Tommy that he's getting a baby sister. His mother's right, he doesn't want a little brother (what if he replaces him and becomes mommy's boy?). However, he has a feeling in his chest when he thinks about a baby sister, all tiny and pink. When he grows up, he'll identify this feeling._

_It's hope._

* * *

He's floating. Is he flying? No. It feels liquid. There's a lot of light.

Is he dead?

* * *

"_You're going to go away to college, and you'll never be home anymore."_

_He turns his head in the grass and looks at the seven year-old girl who keeps staring at the sky. Her bottom lip is trembling, and soon enough, the tears drop from her eyes and roll along her temples. His heart warms and breaks at the same time. She's too adorable._

"_Aw, Speedy, don't worry. There's going to be Thanksgiving, and then Christmas, and… well, I'm probably not coming home for Spring Break because there will be a ton of hot girls but…"_

"_Can't you take me with you?"_

_Her voice is so small, he almost considers it. But his sister is high maintenance: how is he going to get laid if the chicks learn that he doesn't mind having tea parties with his little sister's dolls and stuffed animals?_

_He fully turns on his side, and moves her so they face each other._

"_No. I can't take you with me. But I promise I'll always pick up when you call, okay? Even if all you talk about is how Kelly was mean to you and your Barbie doll wouldn't eat the plastic brownie you fake-baked for her."_

_She shoots him a death glare._

"_It's called 'play pretend', Ollie. Barbie dolls aren't real people, I know that."_

"_Good. So I'll just support you when Kelly's acting like a little bitch."_

_Her eyes widen upon hearing the swear word and she gasps. He loves it when she gasps. So many things are important to her. Nothing seems to matter to him. Well, except her of course. But that's because she's too cute._

"_Oh! You said _bitch_!"_

"_It's alright," he smirks confidently. It's so easy to rile her up. "You won't tell mom."_

_Her face morphs into a happy grin. Her eyes are positively sparkling with glee and he can't help feeling like a sap. God dammit. She really can make him do the lamest things, can't she?_

"_You know, it sucks that one day you'll be all grown up. I wish I could keep you this adorable all of your life."_

"_I'll always be adorable," she giggles, rolling her eyes. _

_He snorts at that, but he can't bring himself to consider a world where the little girl is jaded and crying for anything other than her big brother going away for college. It hurts too much._

"_I really hope so, Speedy."_

_His chest feels heavy and light at the same time. This time, he recognizes the feelings. _

_Hope, and love._

* * *

He's still floating. It's odd. Is he conscious? Is this heaven?

The moments feel potent. Real. It feels like he can grab them, and hold onto them.

He finds that he wants to.

* * *

_A red pen. _

_Bright colors everywhere. _

_Hearing someone call him "Mr Queen" in his father's company. Which sounds wrong._

"_Right, but he's dead— I mean he drowned. But you didn't. Which means you can come down to the I.T department and listen to me babble. Which will end. In three, two, one…"_

_It has been a while since anyone has lost confidence in a funny way in his presence. It's… refreshing. He tends to forget that not everyone is a bad guy out to get him. And her voice is impressively soothing. _

_He smiles. It feels surprisingly natural._

'_But you didn't.' It's weird that she said that. It sounds important. He'd never seen it that way. 'But you didn't.' Like it's a good thing._

_Huh._

_Then, a flimsy, ridiculous lie. Her head moves, she smiles and he finds that he can be genuine. She doesn't buy his story, and she shows it, but it doesn't feel like a threat. Huh. How can she not feel like a threat? Why does he care whether she believes him or not?_

_She keeps talking and talking, like his opinions, his motivations, his identity, don't matter, and the next thing he knows he's outside her office, frowning. At the time, he was preoccupied with the news she delivered, but in this memory he only remembers a red pen, bright pink lips…_

_And the smile they aroused._

_Huh, indeed._

* * *

He doesn't know how because he's still floating, but he holds onto the memory like a desperate man. And slowly, sensations come. Something liquid caresses his skin. He has skin?

Isn't he dead?

The memories come faster, and faster now. The hope, and the love, it didn't get squashed, it didn't disappear into nothingness. The more memories that come, the more sensations he experiences, and soon nothing is in slow motion anymore. It's a flow of words, and feelings, and all of it invades him in a wonderful way.

"_If you're not going, I'm not going."_ — He's not alone. He's supported.

_She licks her finger and wipes the blood off his cheek. "Who taught you how to shave, mister?"_— He's cared for, protected. It tingles when she does that.

"_Someone who can harness that light that's still inside of you. I'm not that person."_ — _Her_ name pops in his mind.

"_But I do know two things. You are not alone. And I believe in you."_ — The hug. There was a hug after. And a tightness in his chest that felt good.

"_A fern. It thrives in the light. I thought since you were living here now, the place could do with a little sprucing."_ The smile is always there now. The good tightness too and the knowledge that he loves her.

"_I wish you wouldn't go but I know you better than that, so I'm not going to ask you to stay."_ — Understanding. He still has the tight feeling, because her next words are still support and he finally knows what the tightness is.

"_And the second thing?" — _He's so happy she asked.

No regret. _"I love you."_

The tightness is hope.

"_You are _not_ done fighting."_ — Strength. Support.

And his mind goes back to that memory again. The most resonant one.

"_But I do know two things. You are not alone. And I believe in you."_

_"I believe in you."_

_I believe in you._

_Hope_.

* * *

Oliver takes a painful, lung-filling breath of oxygen as he emerges from the water, looking around him like a maniac, trying to hold onto something but only grabbing thin air.

"Oh, god, _finally_. That took _forever_," a whiny voice complains. "I thought you'd never resurrect."

He knows that voice, but the world is tilting around him filling him with a tenacious nauseous feeling.

"I don't know if that means you were a lot deader than I thought you were, or if you had just too many damn hopeful memories to hold onto but I'm going go with the least cheesy one, okay?"

"What are you talking about?" Oliver coughs, his brain fuzzy and hurting like a bitch. "Where am I?"

Something is thrown close to him. A towel? He takes it without a thought, still coughing his lungs out, shivering with cold.

Why is it so cold?

"You're still on that sanctified mountain, but we don't have much time before you go batshit crazy and get us noticed so I suggest we don't linger and move along onto a more quiet area."

Oliver didn't expect a response: he doesn't listen. He's focused on his sensations. How does he have any sensation?

"I thought I was dead…" he remembers.

The sword. The punch in the throat, the kneeling, and the sword through the ribs. He remembers his last thoughts, the taste of blood on his tonsils. His entire body aches. His head is splitting with pain.

"Oh you were," the voice confirms. He knows that voice, and he knows he hates it, but everything feels too intense and weird and difficult to focus on immediately. His ribs are so painful he keeps wincing and he can't erase the last image his brain focused on. "You were as dead as it gets. Kind of a bummer, I really thought you had your chances for a second."

"Malcolm?" things click in his head.

"See? You're not as brain dead as I thought. Good. Now move. I told you, I don't want you to go crazy and take the risk of attracting Ra's attention. He doesn't like to share his magical things."

Nothing makes sense. Why would he turn crazy? Why would Malcolm save him?

Has he really died?

And did Malcolm really say _'magical things'_?

* * *

All in all, the first week is a living nightmare. The good thing is that later, Felicity won't remember any of it. She's pressed the "automatic" function of her brain most of the time, only putting it to use when she's at Palmer Technologies.

Turns out, she was wrong when she told Digg it'd be a piece of cake. It is not a piece of cake. She remembers a joke from her childhood about how you eat an elephant by chewing it one bite at a time. Well this elephant is too damn huge for her to chew on and the bites are impossible to swallow. She's left with a stomachache that has settled deep within her and has apparently decided that it would never leave.

She has already grown used to the lingering ache in her heart. She even welcomes it, sort of. It reminds her that she, for one, is still alive. Sometimes, she feels completely empty and it's not so bad either though.

She gets up in the morning. Applies a ton of makeup and looks up tutorials on the internet to reduce the puffiness under her eyes. Then she heads to Palmer Technologies, focuses on the suit, the technology, reads research on data that can help. Goes to the foundry as late as she can. And then she drives home, looks for ways to contact Nyssa and the League of Assassins without asking Malcolm or Lyla. She can't ask the first because she can't find him — even Thea doesn't seem to know where he is. She can't ask the second because Diggle can't know she's not letting go.

She finishes her day by crying herself to sleep, because yep, she's reached that point. It's like Diggle and his stupid fern (it's not hers anymore) opened a dam and now all she can do is cry. She's so over crying. She would take the anger over the constant need to shed tears for a guy she wasn't even dating.

Well. At least, no one knows that she keeps calling Oliver's cellphone. She's holding onto it, because she's that pathetic, and when she can't stand hearing his last words to her anymore, and the sound of her voice asking that stupid question in the first place, she calls his phone, and sighs, or cries, or laughs when she hears his voice.

"It's Oliver. Leave a message."

Yep, it's Oliver all right: straight to the point. No frills or anything. No welcome, not even a 'hi'. Short sentences, with the minimum amount of words.

Just like when he confesses his feelings.

Confess_ed_. Urgh. She doesn't even know anymore.

One night, she makes a chart of how she reacted when she thought Cooper had hung himself. Beyond the fact that she felt responsible for him ending his life (which was pretty traumatizing on its own), she had roamed the internet for information about grief and the five stages of mourning and stuff. Felicity doesn't really know if she went through all stages then, but damn, she's making a massive mix of all of them right now that would probably baffle a shrink.

Denial/isolation, anger, bargaining, depression: she's gone through it all in just one day. She's let go a little of the anger but it's mostly because she's too tired to be angry. Bargaining and depression… well, she's not going to even think about all the depressing stuff she's doing, but she keeps repeating to herself that if she could relive that day, she'd say it back.

Now denial, Felicity can't say that she's past it at all. She doesn't tell Digg nor Roy because they'd probably lock her up in a mental institute (or not, but she doesn't want to worry them, mainly), and she doesn't tell Thea nor Laurel because she fears that they might encourage her, but Felicity feels like as long as she hasn't seen Oliver's dead body lying before her in all it's destroyed, bloody, nightmare inducing glory, she won't believe for sure that he's gone.

It's holding her back, all of it. On the one hand, she now knows of three people who were supposed to be dead but really weren't. Sara. Slade. Cooper. She doesn't even count how Oliver was lost at sea. But now, Sara's completely dead; Slade had mirakuru, and Cooper had the government. She doesn't think that it's that easy to fool the League. Or that Oliver really stood a chance against Ra's Al Ghul when Malcolm Merlyn wouldn't even fight him.

So there's the logical part of her brain that repeats that there is no way Oliver survived and that feels deep inside of her that he died, that he was killed 'like a man' by Ra's Al Ghul. And then, there's this awful part of her that just won't stop hoping and that's usually when she drives herself up the wall and feels like screaming the world down. The hope… The hope is the worst. She wishes there was none. No possible doubt.

But what if he tricked Ra's Al Ghul? What if Oliver outsmarted him? What if he saved himself and told the truth about Malcolm? What if he needs her help — _their_ help — to come back and she's letting him down?

Felicity feels like banging her head against the wall. She needs to stop thinking. And there's only one way for her to do that.

She takes her car keys and goes to Palmer Technologies.

She told Ray the news during the week and he looked at her like such a lost puppy she felt fury rise within her. He apologized and left, and for a crazy second Felicity considered rage sex to punish Oliver for dying and punish herself for not saying the words back but the thought stabbed her like a sword in her chest. She ended up vomiting in the bathroom, disgusted by everything.

All of this to say: Ray avoids her, currently. He's giving her space, which is a first for Ray 'phone pinger' Palmer.

And she works.

She works.

She works.

* * *

Oliver indeed turns crazy.

He doesn't remember the first week. He just remembers how cold he feels.

And the general hatred.

* * *

The second week is just plain terrible. The new Count Vertigo escapes during a transfer to Central City and soon people pop up with panic attacks all over the city and Felicity has the toughest time finding a realistic pattern. Even if they wanted to avoid getting involved, they couldn't. So Roy and Diggle investigate with Felicity's help and Laurel comes to give a welcomed hand (well, welcomed by everyone except Diggle who for some reason doesn't really appreciate Laurel's admission in Team Arrow. Felicity figures that if she's willing to take a beating for the cause and help Roy not get killed, she doesn't care: Laurel is a grown woman who can make her own decisions).

The problem is, it has become unbearable for Felicity to listen to her friends and not be able to see what happens to them. She keeps trying to control Argus's satellites and hack into security cameras, yet there are places even she can't reach unless she installs one on Roy's gear or something — which she doesn't think would help, ultimately.

That night, she can hear Roy fighting and Laurel helping. They have found New Count Vertigo, who has hired people to protect him. Roy doesn't do sass to bad people — he hasn't gotten cocky, which is immensely reassuring to Felicity because it means that he's taking all of this very seriously — and attacks them so he can stop them as soon as possible.

Felicity can only listen, so that's what she does. That night, Diggle is supposed to stay in the van to be the getaway driver but she can hear him curse and move. It's gotten tricky too, figuring out what happens. Diggle describes everything to her as he is used to, but Roy and Laurel haven't caught that habit and she's left alone in the foundry, trying to focus on recognizing the grunts and the groans.

She stays quiet, eating her thumbnail, staring at the screens as if the action alone would suddenly hack her way into a wall, and listens to grunts from Roy, punches, more grunts, a laugh (but whose laugh is it?) and a few muffled sounds from people that she can't recognize. The whole time, her brain makes up images of Roy lying on the ground bloody, of Diggle with a bullet in his skull and her breath hitches.

Every time they leave the foundry, Felicity's heart stops, she forgets to catch her breath and she gets dizzy when they come back. But her brain is broken now, and all she wonders about is whether her team will come back and in what state. She can't stop — not the mission, not her train of thought — so she's stuck in a never ending anxiety that leaves her drained and lonely.

There's another grunt, another muffled sound of a punch (or is it a last breath?), followed by a shot and before Felicity can think about anything she's standing, staring intently at the screen that doesn't show her anything interesting and she has to restrain herself, refrain from demanding explanations.

Another shot, and her hand comes to cover her mouth because soon enough there are tears in her eyes as the most inhumane scream comes out of somebody's throat. Again, Felicity forgets to breathe as her mind comes up with a thousand possible theories. The scream is female. What if it's Laurel? What if she's dying? She can't die, not now. What is she going to tell Captain Lance if his other — _last_ — daughter dies for a cause he has no idea about?

Felicity's mind spins and leaves her dizzy, as a buzzing white noise rings in her ears.

How did things get so messy?

"Laurel!" Roy shouts. "Laurel no!"

Her heart is in her throat and then it sinks to her stomach and Felicity wants to vomit. It didn't used to be like this. The fear, the panic, the feeling of things slipping out of control.

"Goddammit Laurel, stop it!"

But Laurel doesn't stop screaming and Roy's order surprises Felicity. Why would she need to stop?

"What's going on?" she yells.

"She's hurting herself!"

And then the worst happens and a bestial shout comes out of Laurel's chest, something that makes Felicity fall in her chair. It's not a scream. It's a broken weep, a desperate cry for help and it's all packed into one name that knocks the air out of Felicity's lungs and makes her sob.

Sara.

Laurel is screaming for her sister, wailing for her to forgive her for not saving her and avenging her and Felicity can't help but think of Sara's lifeless body, of Sara's blue eyes, of Oliver's fingers closing them. Felicity thinks of Thea and her false innocence and the ruins that Malcolm Merlyn keeps on leaving behind him, and all the pain comes back to hit her full swing.

There's another muffled sound that Felicity can't identify. It could be a punch, or a groan, or a wheeze from an arrow, and for the life of her, she is this close to heading to the location herself to help them out when the howling stops and Diggle's voice exclaims in her ear.

"I've got her. Felicity, get the med bed ready."

She is stunned by the amount of anger that is making John's voice vibrate.

"What happened?" she asks, her voice dead.

"Vertigo. Vertigo is happening."

His voice is trembling with contained wrath, with an energy that Felicity hasn't heard in a long time.

"Are you guys okay?" she asks again.

"She pushed me out of the way," Roy explains as if it made everything clearer.

She hears the doors of the van opening and the engine roar to life and Felicity paces distractedly, wiping her eyes repeatedly, until her friends show up, Diggle carrying an unconscious Laurel in his arms.

"She passed out but I think we need to restrain her. She was trying to hurt herself."

There are black tear tracks on Laurel's cheeks and blood smeared on her neck where she scratched her skin with her own nails and Felicity stares in horror as Diggle lays the woman down on the med bed. Her nails are as red as her neck, and trails of blood taint her black outfit. She looks like her sister on the med bed, which forces Felicity to close her eyes as she tries to get a grip on herself.

This can't be happening. Not again.

Diggle is shaking. She thinks its shock at first but the worried glances that Roy sends his way remind her that Diggle is angry.

One look, and Felicity admits that anger is not a strong enough word to describe how John is feeling. No, he is not angry.

He's seething.

Felicity gulps as she installs the I.V and holds Laurel's fingers, squeezing them lightly in support. She notices her hands: they're as tiny as Sara's.

She can't die, Felicity finds herself thinking. She can't die, not now. Not this way.

"_This… This life that I've chosen… It only ends one way."_

She's petrified with terror, and the rolling waves of fury that make Diggle shake aren't making things better.

"What happened?" Felicity murmurs. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"I was fighting some of the Count's goonies and he threw a heavy dose in my direction to help them out, but Laurel… she pushed me out of the way. If Diggle hadn't been there…"

"You were the one responsible for the two shots that I heard?"

"Yeah," Roy confirms when Diggle stays eerily quiet.

"John, you okay?" Felicity asks timidly.

There's a long silence, and Felicity understands that he's not angry at himself. Diggle doesn't do self-flagellation and pity parties. Diggle doesn't blame himself for things he doesn't have power over.

Diggle is not Oliver.

"No."

Felicity never thought two letters could freeze space and time, or make her feel like less than nothing. But Diggle's eyes turn in her direction slowly and she recognizes the storm that is brewing behind his leveling glare. She's seen it before. But not unleashed upon her.

"No, Felicity, I'm not okay. I am not okay because I've been telling you that we shouldn't go out on the field for over a week now and _you're not listening_!"

Felicity opens her mouth. Diggle has never been angry at her. Ever. The simple thought makes her jaw tremble and her teeth sink into her lips but she doesn't understand why he would be so angry.

"We. Are. Not. Ready." Diggle roars.

"Hey, man, leave her alone…" Roy intervenes.

"Roy, shut up! You are not ready. _She_ sure as hell isn't ready," he adds, pointing at Laurel's inanimate body on the bed, a vision that Felicity forces herself to ignore. "And you…"

He points his finger back to Felicity but he stops, and Felicity feels all the emotions hit her in an instant. It's her fault, he wants to say, but John Diggle is a good man and he understands everything about her better than she does and he doesn't want to put the blame on her.

He stops right at the last moment, but Felicity hears the words clearly and it breaks her more than she ever thought it could. Maybe it finishes what Nyssa's news had begun in the first place.

"We are not ready," he repeats, finally, with a trembling voice and such defeat that it seems like all fight has left him. "You're putting everyone in danger, Felicity, because you refuse to accept that Oliver is not coming back."

She begins to shake her head no, but Diggle presses his lips together and she knows he's taking the proverbial gloves off.

"You say you know he's dead, but you don't believe it. And you're putting everyone at risk by dealing with Roy like he's Oliver. Roy is NOT Oliver."

"I know that," she begins weakly, but she finds herself blinking a lot.

"Do you? 'Jump from there', 'speed through here', 'you have to go through the window'… You refuse to acknowledge that this team is not only a player short, it's a _leader_ short. Roy is trying his hardest, but he doesn't have Oliver's training. He doesn't have his skills and he cannot take arrows and bullets and fight at the same time like Oliver could. And by treating him, by treating Laurel like they're this well-oiled team of archers, you're putting their lives at risk and you need to _stop_ before anyone else gets killed!"

His eyes have softened now, but he's not done.

"Oliver is _dead_, Felicity. He's not coming back. We can keep fighting, we can keep going because that's how we honor the dead."

There's a beat, and someone sniffles, then Diggle goes in for the kill.

"But I can't bury another friend. Please. Let us regroup."

* * *

Laurel gets better within a few hours and the day after that Diggle decides that he'll be organizing general training sessions that are mandatory — even for Felicity. He doesn't tell her outright, but she knows what he's thinking. Since Oliver's not here to protect her fully anymore, she needs to be able to at least defend herself better. The cute self-defense won't be enough anymore, even though she's gotten good at using people's expectations of her against them. Diggle wants her to train to be more offensive, and he ups both Roy and Laurel's training.

They accept that they need to go over techniques and plans more thoroughly. Changing their dynamic and habits so brutally finishes to break Felicity's heart but in a way, she finds that it makes things easier. The way they function doesn't leave any Oliver-size hole in their plan (there's still the Oliver-shaped one in her soul, but she doesn't see anything to help with that right now so she ignores it). It fits them, and it's difficult psychologically to accept it, but it makes things easier in a way. Letting go of the hope seems impossible, much less in two weeks but she thinks that's what Diggle is trying to do. Help her move on. Even if she doesn't feel ready.

She's not sure she'll ever be ready.

They don't talk about what Diggle said that night again, but Felicity feels the weight of the words on her shoulders every time she walks in the foundry, every time she sees Roy train, every time her eyes drop on the med bed. Roy says he never noticed that he was being pushed too hard, that she shouldn't blame herself because he was willing and it felt good to fight, while Laurel refuses to even hear about an apology.

Three days later, Felicity can't take it anymore and walks to Diggle's place to express how sorry she is but before she can say a word, John smiles sadly and hands her Sara. Taking care of the baby soothes her, oddly. She's so precious, all smiley faces and bubbles, for a minute there, everything fades away and Felicity gets perspective.

"I was going to ask Oliver to be godfather," John confesses from his seat.

She's always surprised when Diggle mentions Oliver so naturally, like he's just away for vacation. Felicity has the toughest time saying his name. Diggle was totally right that night. She's projecting her lack of acceptation onto him. He brings him up because that's how he mourns him.

Surprisingly though, the idea of Oliver as a godfather brings a small smile to her face. She's not even sure he would have accepted. She can totally hear his excuses, about how dangerous it could be…

"And we were going to ask you to be godmother, of course. But now that everything's screwed up…"

Felicity's eyes fill with tears as she lifts her head up and looks at the ceiling to try and contain them. Of course, Diggle would want Felicity and Oliver to be godparents, and of course, deep down he would hope that they'd end up together because if there's one person more frustrated by Oliver and Felicity's weird relationship it's Digg.

Or maybe, he's just a sap and wants his two best friends to be happy.

Well.

So much for that.

"Urgh," she tries to joke. "You'd think I wouldn't have the strength to cry anymore, but hey, surprise! More tears."

"You're too hard on yourself, Felicity."

There's a little silence, and of course her brain goes back to that horrendous loop and she has to close her eyes, as the tears roll down her cheeks.

"_And the second thing?"_

"_I love you."_

"Do you think I messed with his head?" Felicity finds herself asking before she can think. But now that she has begun, she can't stop. "When you came to the office that day and you said that my dinner with Palmer was twisting him up in knots, do you think that's what happened too?"

She's staring emptily at a piece of furniture, as the vision of Oliver's back passing through the door to Verdant happens again, and again, and again.

"_And the second thing?"_

_Head tilt. Smile. Confidence. "I love you."_

"What?" Diggle asks, confused.

"I didn't say it back," she explains distantly, frowning, trying to calculate the seconds between the three words and the moment he spun around.

"_And the second thing?"_

_Head tilt. Smile. Or was it a grin? "I love you."_

_One. Two. Three. He's gone._

"Do you think he would have fought harder if he was sure?"

"No. Felicity, you need to stop with that. He knew you loved him. Or he knew you didn't not love him. He told you because I think he realized that you didn't believe him, I think he figured that he'd never told you truly, am I wrong?"

"_Talk about unthinkable. You and me, I mean. When you told me you loved me, you had me fooled." Head tilt. Grin. _Yeah, that one was a grin.

Felicity blinks.

"_Don't ask me to say that I don't love you."_

"_We both know how I feel about her."_

"He wanted you to know," Diggle develops. "That's why he told you. Not to hear it back. I'd like to think that if he had come back, if he'd faced death once more it would have made him realize that he sucks at living but…"

Felicity chuckles bitterly, playing with baby Sara's hand wrapped around her finger.

"Yeah, no. It wouldn't have changed anything."

But the truth is, she doesn't care. She'd trade ever being together with him, ever hearing those three words again if it meant he was still alive. She doesn't think there's something she would not be willing to give up just to have him be alive again.

"See?" Diggle starts again. "You believed he was going to come back. Of course you didn't say it back. He knew it."

The tears are still there — they're always there, it feels like — but this time they're rolling down her cheeks slowly and she doesn't feel the express need to remove them.

"That night, before he left, I was with Ray. Not… 'with' Ray," she amends quickly, bringing a light smile on Diggle's face that she doesn't see, "but… you know, talking, and he told me why he bought QC. He wants to use the Applied Sciences to build a suit that would protect the people who wear it."

Something dawns on Diggle, who wipes his face tiredly.

"That's why you don't go home and don't sleep anymore?"

Felicity looks at him in surprise, but Diggle arches an unapologetic eyebrow that means 'who do you think you're talking to?'

"I… I just figured that it could help us."

"And then what? You find it, and how do you keep busy?"

There's a beat, a moment of silence only troubled by a deep, heartfelt sigh from baby Sara who's staring at Felicity.

"I don't know," she finally answers.

"You always do your best, and we know that. But you need to rest. You need to mourn. You don't need to be distracted and to watch your life go by. Oliver did that, and look where that got him. Watching the woman he loves from afar while being miserable trying to protect everyone. You can't protect everyone any more than he could. He died trying to save his sister. I don't think he would have liked to die any other way."

Felicity gulps but finds peace in Diggle's words, who sounds like he also needs someone to talk to.

"That's how I stay sane, you know. I repeat it again and again. He didn't die as a vigilante, alone in his dark cave, killed by a mugger because he made one wrong move. He died fighting for his own life, fighting for his sister, fighting to get back to people he actually loved. To come back to us. That's more than I thought he would when I met him, and when he wanted to surrender to Slade and right after Sara died."

She nods, and focuses on baby Sara again, as the infant snuggles her face against her chest and smiles.

"It drives me crazy," Felicity admits, her jaw clenched. "Malcolm had Thea's father, the one who raised her, killed, along with her two brothers and he gets away with all of it. And he gets to keep her, like she's a prize, like it's fair. I want to be the bigger person, I want to be able to keep my mouth shut but…"

Diggle sighs.

"I know. I feel the same. But she doesn't have anyone anymore, besides him. And I'm not sure I'm good enough to make him pay. Because if we tell Thea the whole truth, Merlyn might lose her…"

Felicity bites her lip. She's driven crazy by the possibility.

"He might lose her, but Thea will lose herself completely."

* * *

The second week, he remembers moving. Moving a lot, and being restrained.

He remembers laughing, and hallucinations but no details.

Man, but does the hatred stay.

* * *

The third week… well, the third week, Felicity doesn't know how to describe it. It's mostly empty. The truth is, Diggle told her that she shouldn't let her life slip by her but she doesn't really know what life he's talking about. Oliver being dead, besides leaving her with a shit ton of emotions that she can't deal with right now (if ever), changes her life integrally.

She's tried being the new Team Arrow's IT girl. She's tried being Ray's brain. She's tried being Roy's girl, but the truth is, she doesn't even know who she is anymore. Laurel has this anger that she quells by fighting, and Thea has her father…

The only thing Felicity feels like she still has is Diggle. She can be Diggle's friend. And even that is difficult, because Diggle mentions Oliver's name often, as if repeating his name is maintaining him alive.

Felicity eats her ice cream that night, thinking about her life (that's all she feels like she's doing lately). Diggle was right, she does hold Roy to the same standards as Oliver. She even holds Laurel to the same standards as Sara. Except they're both second best and she can't blame Diggle for worrying about his teammates getting them all killed.

Since Diggle yelled, Felicity only goes to the foundry to keep her programs updated and work out with her friend. She's sore all over and Diggle is tough on her because she thinks he's absolutely terrified that he won't be good enough to keep her alive. But she feels like they lack purpose. They don't have a list. They don't have to counter Slade's vendetta. They know who Sara's killer is, and Felicity is worried that soon Laurel will remember that they never got to the bottom of that. Soon, the pain of losing Oliver will fade for most of them, and the rage of losing Sara will come back.

And Felicity will have to keep the secrets.

She considers going 'home', for a while. Heading back to Vegas, hug her mother, let her talk about useless stuff that no one cares about. Maybe she'd let her buy her a few clothes to take her mind off of things. But Felicity knows that it's only temporary and she doesn't want temporary. She needs something to focus her energy on.

Felicity no longer heads to Palmer Technologies after her Arrow missions to work more. She goes home, and she catches up on her shows and she's bored to death.

Oddly, she wonders if that's what's going to kill her. Not bad guys. Not criminals she put to jail and that have escaped. Not even the New Count Vertigo and his weird drug that she still hasn't figured out how he spreads. It's going to be the boredom of a normal life.

Normal.

Urgh.

Regrouping sucks. Regrouping sucks, training sucks, and damn she misses Oliver and she feels pathetic for that. What did she used to do before she met him, before she joined his team? Go out for drinks? Who is she supposed to go out with? To talk about what?

"_If you ever want to talk about your day…"_

Felicity closes her eyes. She misses Oliver in every aspect and she's come to accept that not only was she head over heels in love with him, she has lost him and the possibility to make things right between them, or to yell once more and tell him that he's an idiot.

The night of the Ray Palmer Kiss Disaster (as she calls it in her head), she shouldn't have let Oliver get away with talking to Cupi— Cutter, whatever. He knew what it was to want to be with someone and not being able to? Go to fucking hell, Oliver Queen. Felicity groans out loud because man, she's been over this. Repeatedly.

Thank god, somebody knocks on her door, and Felicity is almost excited until she remembers that she doesn't really have any friends left. Digg would have warned her if he visited, Roy absolutely never drops by and Laurel is hanging out with her father.

So Felicity does the next most logical thing and gets the taser that Diggle made her buy (which even seemed to make sense and be normal, because apparently this is her life now) as she frowns at her door.

"Who is it?"

Felicity lets her ice cream pot fall on the floor when she hears the answer.

"It's Thea. Is this Felicity?"

Felicity looks around herself like she expects someone else to confirm that yes, indeed, she is Felicity Smoak (which she should know), and gets the ice cream before putting the taser back in its rightful place.

"Hold on!"

She tries to clean everything up, dodging the main issue of: what the hell would Thea Queen want with her? Doesn't she have Verdant to run? Roy for support? Her dad to get manipulated by?

The truth is, Felicity doesn't feel at ease being close to Thea because she's so tired she feels like she might spit everything out. And it won't be pretty. But she doesn't really have a choice, so she opens the door and lets the youngest not-technically-a-Queen in her town house with a confused frown.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," Thea smiles shyly. Felicity freezes. She knows that smile. "Is this a bad time?"

Felicity tries to come up with something. Technically, there will never be a good time for Thea to drop by but it's not like she can say it. And the shy smile.

"_Hi. I'm Oliver Queen."_

Felicity's lips turn up weakly as she shakes her head.

"No, please, come in."

She's such a stupid sucker. The definition of craziness is repeating the same actions while expecting different outcomes. Letting Oliver in has left her life in shambles, and a shy smile was literally all that it took (that, and a lie and a gorgeous body, okay, but it started with a smile and a ridiculous, lame, stupid red pen). She has an idea that letting Thea Queen in is not going to go any differently.

The young woman enters timidly into her entryway and hands her a plastic bag limply, noticing something behind Felicity's back.

"Is that _PS: I Love You_?"

Felicity throws a disconcerted eye to her TV. Oh. Well. What is Thea going to do, judge her? It's only her second viewing of the movie. Today. It's not that bad.

"It's a great movie," Felicity argues a little defensively. "How did you get my address? And why did you bring my favorite food?" she adds, peeking inside the plastic bag.

She's almost excited when she notices a pint of ice cream and a few bottles of a brand new energy drink that she had drunk during her work-bender. It's almost better than red wine because drinking wine would make her talk, and mention stupid psychopathic fathers.

"You call that food?" Thea blinks. "Anyway. Roy told me."

"Roy knows where I live? Huh. Weirder things have happened I guess. What can I do for you?"

Thea looks a little embarrassed, pressing her lips together but she seems to gather up her courage and smile again. Her eyes are suddenly so wet, Felicity wonders how none of the tears are spilling over and drowning her.

"I'm just… I've been going over everything and I'm going crazy and… I don't know who to talk to."

Felicity opens her mouth and closes her eyes. So… she guesses she has Laurel and Oliver to thank for that visit? How is she supposed to keep Oliver's secrets from Thea?

"Can't you talk to Roy?" she winces.

She doesn't want that responsibility. Thea's look is as icy as her mother's used to be, prompting a shiver from Felicity. Good grief, she's such a Queen. Or… whatever was Moira's maiden name. Because that cold leveling glare, Oliver inherited just like his sister.

"I don't care how Oliver trained Roy as a douche dressed in green by making him slap water for days."

Felicity can't help a stunned chuckle. How could she forget about the water slapping? It hasn't even been a year.

"Roy was really annoyed," she keeps chuckling, shaking her head.

"I need more answers than that."

Felicity sighs, and wishes Thea had actually brought wine in the end. She extracts a can of energy drink and offers another to the young woman who shakes her head no.

"I clearly don't have your metabolism," she offers as an explanation.

Felicity thinks back to her five daily-crunches with a little guilt and shrugs, taking a swig at her drink and showing Thea a seat. While the young woman sits, Felicity turns the TV off, figuring that she can always go back to mouthing the dialogue later that night.

"Why don't you talk to Laurel? She's the one who has had the longest history with your family. She knew your brother too."

There's a glint in Thea's eyes that startles her.

"Laurel knew _Ollie_, she didn't know Oliver or… whoever he turned into."

"Your brother was a good man," Felicity defends automatically.

"Was he?" Thea whispers, which would make Felicity's blood boil except her tone is so… bare, so vulnerable, that Felicity understands what Thea wants to know.

She needs to reconcile her memories of her brother and what she knows of him now, more lies to add to a massive pile of lies, and she doesn't know who to ask. But Roy knew Oliver. So did Diggle, why would she come and ask Felicity when two other people can answer just as well and don't end up bawling every time his name is mentioned?

"Yes. Yes, he was. He might have come about it the wrong way at first, but he started all of this with good intentions. And he…" she gulps and breathes in, "died with the best intentions."

"My mom died to save me. So did my brother… How is that fair? How am I supposed to keep going? Even my own father doesn't answer my messages…"

"Malcolm is AWOL?" Felicity asks, frowning.

She has been so focused on staying away from him, on keeping herself from ruining his life that she has not kept any tabs on him since Oliver's departure. How could she have been so stupid?

Why would he not be there? Surely, he must have heard that his blood oath or whatever hadn't been erased since Ra's Al Ghul wasn't dead. Is he running away from the League? But would he leave Thea behind?

That's a whole lot of confusing.

"Yeah…" Thea confirms, then trails off and gets lost in her thoughts.

Felicity finishes her drink, and sighs, opening another can distractedly. She knows she won't want to sleep tonight. If she hangs out with Thea, and has to talk about Oliver, the dreams will come back and there's only so much a girl can take. So, if she has to honor Diggle's request of not letting her life slip by, she can't sleep and dream about… him.

"I just…" Thea starts again. "Nothing makes sense. The police was right when they arrested him. He was a psychopath."

Felicity opens her mouth and winces.

"He… yeah, he wasn't very stable when he came back. Again, Diggle would be more helpful on that front. I wasn't really working with him then."

"When did you? And… look, no offense, but you don't exactly look like the kind of girl who would… you know, be a criminal."

"But your brother did?"

"I mean, Ollie had been arrested multiple times for a lot of stupid things," Thea argues, as Felicity takes another sip of her drink while cheering on her dodging techniques. "You look like birds braided your hair this morning," she eyes Felicity's messy bun while the woman tries to figure out if she even showered that morning. "Or, I mean, maybe not today but the rest of the time you do."

Felicity remembers distinctly thinking "screw it" when she'd brushed her teeth and glanced at her tub, feeling miserable. Now she kind of wishes she hadn't. Oh well, whatever, she can add it to her list of regrets. This one is pretty low on the list.

"Thank you? I guess?" Felicity grumbles.

"All of that to say that… You don't exactly scream 'vigilante sidekick', you know?"

"That's kind of the point," Felicity quips, half-annoyed at the dig at her hair, half-amused by Thea's expectations that are once again working for her.

"I guess you're right. So that's why he turned you into his E.A? You weren't his…"

Felicity's eyebrows rise on her forehead. Oh, nice! Insults, it had been a while.

"What?" she grunts. "His fluffer? No I wasn't."

Or maybe his ego fluffer. Urgh. Believing in him. Stupid, stupid, stupid Felicity. She shouldn't have told him she wouldn't ask him to stay. She should have…

Felicity clears her throat as Thea closes her eyes and winces.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I'm going at it the wrong way… I'm just trying to understand."

Felicity sighs again and takes another swig of her can, hoping the non-alcoholic liquid courage will have the same effects as the alcoholic one.

"I met your brother in October, a few weeks after he came back from Lian Yu. He asked me for a few favors with ridiculous lies but I didn't think too much of it. Then he showed up with Digg so I guess he was brought in, and around February, he told me his secret because he literally had no other choice other than die. Since I'd helped save his life, he asked me to help him out — which I was already doing unknowingly anyways so… I said yes."

When had she become so good at editing the truth? Felicity doesn't know why she doesn't tell Thea about Walter's requests, about his disappearance and Felicity's tie with the research about Tempus and the Undertaking. She doesn't tell her that initially she wasn't supposed to be part of the Team full time, just until Walter was found. Maybe she doesn't want to screw Thea's memories of her family any further than they are. Maybe she is scared that Thea will remember that they met the day Walter was saved and ask her why she's still helping her brother.

Thea frowns once more, then takes something out of her purse and Felicity's eyes bug out of her face when she sees the huge folder that Thea extracts. She peruses through a bunch of articles, then stares at a picture for a long time and chuckles bitterly.

"My mom shot my brother when he confronted her as a vigilante. Talk about a sentence I never thought I'd ever say in my life," she sighs. "My family is so fucked up."

"Don't worry," Felicity smiles distractedly, "every family has skeletons in their closets. Your closets are just a little bigger than the rest of us."

There's a silence, and as she looks at Thea, an uneasiness creeps into her stomach.

"Why would he attack me?" Thea eventually chokes, wiping a skinny hand over her face. "He attacked me as the Arrow rather than tell me the truth. Why?"

Felicity tries gulping, as the uneasiness morphs into guilt and pain, and a little anger because she shouldn't be the one answering these damn questions. She shouldn't be the one having to deal with a heartbroken Thea. They'd never even interacted before Oliver's death and it's not fair.

"He did what he thought he had to do," she answers with a strained voice.

But the thing in her stomach is still here.

"I'm so angry all the time," Thea sobs, exhaustedly. "I'm sick of being angry, I'm tired of feeling like this but I don't know how else to feel! I keep thinking about our last conversation and how he said he loved me and how this was his version of a goodbye and I want to punch him in the face because I realized: this wasn't even the first one I got! He told me goodbye many times before and I didn't know, I never figured it out and _he sucks_!"

Felicity flinches when she hears about Oliver's goodbye, his words to his sister, while the young woman keeps going.

"When _I_ left and followed Malcolm, genuinely thinking I would never go back, I didn't even say goodbye. Not to him. And he… How many times did he think he wouldn't be coming back? He always said I needed to remember that he loved me, and I said that I loved him too but that's not even enough. I need… I didn't say goodbye to my brother, and I'll never get to. I'm… I'm so…"

Thea's teeth are clenched but Felicity doesn't need to hear the word that comes next. Anger. She's familiar with the feeling. So Thea was smart enough to tell him back and she's still a mess. Should that make her feel any better? Or does it make it worse?

"_And the second thing?"_

"_I love you."_

Felicity clears her throat, letting her head fall back against the headrest of her couch and feels like sobbing again because what the hell. She feels like shit, nervous, fidgety. She shouldn't have chugged all these energy drinks because Thea has opened a dam of emotions, letting them crash over her and she's dragging Felicity down with her.

"I want my brother back," she admits in a broken sound that knocks the air out of Felicity's lungs.

The searing pain is back in her chest, in her loins, in her stomach; the searing pain and the guilt that stops her from breathing and makes her heart stutter.

"That makes two of us," she murmurs, her throat clogged.

"Does it?" a voice asks on her right.

Felicity blinks because she can't believe it, her mind has to be playing tricks on her. She forgets to breathe, turning her head in the voice's direction and tenses immediately upon recognizing the familiar face. Because it's not the usual smile, the confident head tilt and the warm eyes that she's used to. It's a thin line, a clenched jaw and an icy stare.

Didn't Thea hear that?

"Because it sure doesn't look like it from where I'm standing…"

"Oliver?" Felicity mutters, her head dizzy, as Thea opens her eyes and follows her line of sight.

"So I go to hell and back, face death, and you don't even check your sources before spilling all my secrets to my sister? How long have you wanted me dead, Felicity?"

Her loins are churning and she closes her eyes.

"Felicity?" Thea asks with a worried voice.

"Call Digg," she replies, refusing to open her eyes again.

"You can't even look at me?" Oliver thunders, then his voice turns into a taunting, bitter one. "There was a time when that was all you could do. But that's all I was for you, wasn't I? A way for you to feel good about yourself, to feel useful…"

"Felicity, are you okay?" Thea's voice is a little more urgent.

Felicity nods distractedly, and forces herself to stare at the furniture and not look towards the door. But Oliver has moved, and he's standing right behind the coffee table, where she left her cell and the empty cans.

The cans.

Something clicks in her mind, but it's all fuzzy and Oliver won't shut the hell up.

"Call DIGG!" she repeats forcefully to cover Oliver's voice. "And tell him I've been infected with Vertigo."

"What?" Thea screeches frantically. "When? _How_? How do you even know?"

Felicity's ears stop registering anything more from Thea, focusing solely, masochistically on Oliver's spewing words and disgusted stare.

"Do you realize that I poured my heart out to you, literally walking to my death, and you couldn't be bothered to say that _you loved me_? You were the last person I spoke to and the last words I heard from a loved one was a stupid, useless question."

"_And the second thing?"_

Thea scrambles closer to her, spotting Felicity's phone on the table and rummaging through the last placed calls, eyes widening when she spots that there's a long column of her brother's name in Felicity's recent history.

Her heart is beating so fast it's like a drum that marks the rhythm to Oliver's venomous words. She can't close her eyes anymore. She drinks the vision in, half-convinced that she's hallucinating, half-hoping that it can be real. He's not telling her anything that she hasn't told herself before, is he? After all, if this were real, wouldn't he be right to be disappointed and angry? Wasn't she angry at him too, until now?

"Digg?" Thea is asking, her eyes fixated on Felicity, while the blonde tries to get to her feet shakily.

She keeps clenching her hands, her fingers itching and she doesn't know why.

She doesn't know if she wants Oliver to disappear or if she wants to hold onto him and never let go. He can't be here. He's dead. Thea obviously doesn't see him, and ghosts are not a thing. She has to repeat it to herself, except she isn't really because she doesn't care if he hates: her she just wants him to be there, standing in front of her for real.

Her chest is compressing painfully with the possibility. Maybe Thea is the one on drugs. Maybe she's thinking clearly right now. Maybe Oliver is here. Her eyes are prickling from lack of blinking, but she's terrified that if she closes her eyes even for a second, the vision will fade and she'll be left all alone again. Her heart and her lungs, and her throat, everything is clenching and she moans in pain.

Oliver, or fake-Oliver doesn't care. He smirks cruelly and steps closer to her.

"So Cooper gets to come back from the dead but you don't stop for a second to think that I could have not died? What happened to all your 'I believe in you, Oliver', 'you are hero, Oliver'?"

Thea is talking to Digg rapidly over the phone, but Felicity's brain doesn't pay it any attention. She's looking into Oliver's eyes through a blur of unbidden tears that are running along her cheeks endlessly, and she's stuck, standing still and shaking as his words wash over her, engulf her chest and press again, and again, until she literally can't breathe and feels like she's falling.

She's been falling for three weeks, she realizes. That's what she's been doing, and it feels so good to let go.

Someone screams her name as she falls to her knees.

"Did you even look for my body?" Oliver presses on, lips churning over his teeth. "Did you even ask Nyssa for anything, any detail? Did you care at all?"

"I'm sorry," she whispers painfully.

"Oh you're sorry!" Oliver laughs manically. "Good for me! Do you know how long I stayed in the snow in agony, freezing to death, thinking that _you_ would come and find me, only to wait in vain?"

"You're dead," Felicity mutters, but her eyes are still stuck on him. "You're not here."

"Yes I'm dead, Felicity and whose fault is that?"

His lips aren't just a normal pink anymore, they slowly taint in red, turn crimson and then something spills on the floor as he keeps spitting words. The shirt she clung on tightly when he kissed her forehead is rapidly soaked in a darker shade too, and soon he stumbles to the ground before her horrified eyes, falling in a sitting position against one of her plants.

"Oliver no!" she exclaims, and crawls to him, trying to pull his shirt up to look for an injury, leaving her hands drenched in blood up to the wrist. "No, no, no, no…"

"Ra's may have killed me, Malcolm may have manipulated things to get what he wanted, but who left me to go face my destiny alone without even a word of support?" he doesn't have any venom left, just complete defeat. "Who avenged me?"

"I can't avenge you. I can't. I…" she begins sobbing, incapable of articulating anymore as Oliver stays seated, staring at her, supplicating her. "I told you I didn't want you to go but you wouldn't listen!"

"You know it wasn't what I wanted to hear. What I _needed_ to hear. I'm dead because I wasn't focused."

"Please stay… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I love you too. I love you too…"

Someone's shaking her shoulder and calling her name, holding her bloody wrists and she tries to cling to Oliver but it doesn't feel like him, and when she blinks he isn't there, and her eyes are wide-open because: where did he go? Why isn't he still here?

_Why isn't he still here?_

"Felicity…" Thea's teary voice repeats. "Please, stop…"

Where is Oliver?

She hears a scream that, she's sure, couldn't possibly have come out of her throat.

And then she doesn't remember anything.

* * *

When she wakes up, her wrists are bandaged, and she's in a very busy section of the E.R. She's surprised to find Caitlin and Barry seated with Diggle, but she doesn't remark on it. Diggle is staring at her with an anguish that words can't describe and jumps to his feet when her eyes blink open, saying her name with shaky relief and tears in his eyes.

"Hey," he murmurs, his hand caressing the top of her hair.

"It's in the drinks," Felicity recalls immediately. "We have to look at the factories that produce multiple types of brands, he's…"

"Shhh, stop, Roy is already dealing with that. Don't worry. Just rest, okay?"

Felicity tries to nod but her throat aches. Caitlin and Barry have stood up too, joining her friend around her bed and she finds herself smiling sheepishly at them.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Digg sent a sample of your friend Laurel's blood the other day so I could analyze it and find where it was produced," Caitlin supplies sadly. "I was going to send my report tomorrow when he called saying you'd been hit."

"You didn't call to tell us about Oliver," Barry adds quietly, looking moved.

Felicity blinks, but doesn't say anything. Truth is, after telling Laurel she couldn't bear share the news with anyone else. And then she simply, honestly, genuinely forgot. She got caught up in her grief, and she didn't even think that Team Flash would want to know — would be affected by Oliver's disappearance.

Disappearance? She wants to scoff. Who is she trying to kid. Oliver's death. He's dead. He's not coming back.

Unless she takes more Vertigo.

"Are you going to be okay? Do you need me to help out a little bit more while…"

"No, no thank you Barry," she cuts weakly, as Diggle nods his approval.

"You have your own city to take care of. Thanks for offering though."

"You didn't have to come," Felicity adds, looking at both her friends tiredly. "It's nothing a ton of Starling inhabitants haven't experienced lately."

Barry's weary eyes fall on her bandaged wrists, and he legitimately attempts to smile but he ends up trying to kiss her forehead and before Felicity can think, she has turned her head a little so he doesn't hit the same spot as Oliver three weeks before. If he notices — if her reaction hurt — he doesn't let it show.

"I'm literally a phone call away, okay?"

Felicity nods, while Caitlin stands and presses her hand. Felicity finds that she actually feels better in Caitlin's presence. She appreciates the way she squeezes her fingers, because it's as desperate as Felicity feels and she knows how much Caitlin and her understand each other in that moment. She simply offers a tight lipped smile with watery eyes.

"If you want to not talk…" she whispers.

This is the kindest, most thoughtful suggestion anyone has made in the past month and it actually warms Felicity's body a little.

"Good luck," Caitlin adds, and then she's gone.

She doesn't listen to Digg saying goodbye to Barry and Caitlin; Felicity is staring at the ceiling, trying to fight the fog in her brain. Very soon though, John is back at her side and sighing, wiping a moist hand over his face, looking drained and Felicity feels the guilt hit her like a wall of concrete. She's not making it easy on him, is she?

"This regrouping thing isn't working, heh?" she tries to joke.

"Don't even…" he begins, then sighs again. It feels like that's all his been doing lately. "Thea blames herself for bringing the cans. I had to send her home but she didn't want to leave you."

Aaaaaand another shared trait by the Queen half-siblings. That, Felicity really wonders where they got it from because she's pretty sure that Moira Queen did not once regret what evil she did. And she probably never blamed herself for decisions she made. Would that be from Robert Queen? Nurture over nature?

"She actually did us a favor. She can tell us where she bought those cans and we can follow the trail and stop the Count. How long was I out anyway?"

Diggle drags his chair closer to her bed and slumps on it, his hand going from his face to his non-existent hair.

"You passed out for a few minutes, then the EMTs gave you something so you could rest. And before you ask, you're going to be released tonight because as you can see, that E.R is filled. You're staying at my place, and it's going to be for a few days."

Felicity sincerely hopes her face expresses all the indignity that she feels right now.

"Laurel didn't stay at your place for a few days after overdosing on the drug! And she's an actual addict!"

Diggle levels her with a glare that shuts her up.

"You are not Laurel."

Felicity's mouth effectively closes. She's still going to be salty about it. She wants to go home, curl up in her bed, and let the world stop for a few days and not reflect on what she saw, on what she heard, on what she felt when she was drugged.

Diggle's tone changes, getting as soft as it gets when he speaks to his infant.

"Thea said you were seeing Oliver when you hallucinated."

Felicity throat clogs and tears prick at her eyes. She really doesn't want to talk about it.

"She's pretty traumatized. The open wounds on your wrists are self-inflicted."

There's a beat filled with guilt and unease, a moment of heavy silence as Felicity suddenly fathoms what has been terrifying Diggle and where he is getting at.

"I wouldn't try to kill myself," Felicity opposes, offended, finally looking Digg straight in the eyes, as she tries to sit up. "I wouldn't, Digg. It was the drug, I promise. I am not going to kill myself."

"Okay," John acquiesces, his own throat tight, and Felicity feels like he deserves more peace than that.

"The drug it makes you see… things you fear. And you think you're preventing that fear from becoming true but there's no one, _nothing_ so… what you're really attacking is yourself."

Diggle nods, understanding, and looking almost relieved.

"What you fear most is Oliver?" he asks then quietly, genuinely surprised.

She shakes her head.

"No. I'm really self-centered. What I fear most is my guilt."

"Guilt for what? For Oliver dying?" Diggle presses, and Felicity looks away. "Dammit, don't… What will it take for you to stop blaming yourself for that? Ra's Al Ghul killed Oliver. Malcolm set him up. There are no other people responsible for Oliver's death. Do you blame me, Felicity?"

The young woman blinks, confused.

"What? No! Why would I?"

"I let my brother go out on the field without backup. I let him reject my offer to give him a hand, support him. Do you blame me for that?"

Felicity gulps. "It's not the same."

"How?"

She shrugs. She doesn't know. But it's not the same. And maybe she's lost and drowning in one specific idea.

"We could have been happy," she finally admits quietly. "I keep thinking of all the ways things could have been different. We didn't… He loved me, John, and he still wouldn't be with me and I think it's my fault. I let him push me away, I let myself be hurt when I knew exactly how he was going to react and I didn't even fight him on any of it. And now he's dead, and I won't ever have the chance to make it right, I will never know if we could have made it, I will never be able to prove him wrong."

She sighs, then looks Diggle straight in the eyes and lets her head drop on her pillow.

"We could have been happy."

One of the corners of Diggle's lips lifts sadly, as he goes back to caressing her hair.

"I know."

"And I can't help the hope. Cooper came back from the dead. So did Sara, a few times… What if Oliver wasn't dead that whole time? What if he was alive and waiting for us to save him and we failed him?"

Diggle bites his bottom lip and she sees something in his eyes that makes her blink.

"What is it?" she straightens up, worried.

"The day Nyssa came to deliver the news. After you left to tell Laurel, she was lingering behind Verdant. And…"

"And what?" Felicity presses, her heart beating so fast in her chest she can feel it in her entire body.

Diggle sighs again, bracing himself, clearly unwilling to share the bit of news.

"She described the combat. She was with another member of the League who had to bear witness to it. They both said the same story and I don't see what the point would be in lying considering the faces they had. Oliver got a sword through the chest, then fell off a cliff, Felicity."

"Oh god."

Has Diggle been keeping that knowledge for himself for that long? To protect her? He has let it gnaw at him all this time, just to make sure she wouldn't hear the gory details?

"There is no way he could have survived. Oliver doesn't have the government watching his back. He doesn't have boats to pick him up in the ocean. Let's be honest, Oliver never had a ton of luck. He's not Cooper. He got more time and happier memories than Sara."

She's full on crying now, and she can't be in the hospital anymore. She just can't. So Felicity takes the needles out of her arm, and pushes the covers off a little blindly.

"I need to get out of here."

He fell off a cliff. He was stabbed by a sword.

Holy shit.

What a horrible way to die. Was he dead before his body fell off? Is it okay to hope so?

"I'm sorry…"

She squeezes Diggle's hand because she's aware that considering her behavior there has not been a good moment to tell her that Oliver was stabbed to death then tossed off a cliff like a ragged doll and that there is absolutely no point in hoping for a better time.

Just when she thinks she's hit rock bottom, there's another layer to discover. She wonders if now is the moment where she's at the Earth's core for she has a really hard time fathoming what could be worse than losing all hope.

Because there really is no hope left to feel right now.

Just despair.

Heartache.

And loss.

[**NEXT:** PART III — THE RETURN]

* * *

**It all gets better next chapter, I promise. The title is a pretty good giveaway. Oliver returns, and it's all from his POV for PART III.**

**I hope part II didn't disappoint — if you've reached that far, thanks a lot for reading. Let me know what you thought :)**


	3. Part III — THE RETURN

**Again, thank you so much for the kind reviews (I can't personally thank guests but I cherish your words as much as the registered users'). You guys rock.**

**THE SECOND THING**

**PART III.**

**THE RETURN**

"_If you're not going, I'm not going."_

"_You are _not_ done fighting."_

"_I do know two things. You are not alone. And I believe in you."_

"_I knew it! I knew you were alive! I missed you so much." — "You were with me the whole time."_

"_And the second thing?" — "I love you."_ _I'll come back. But I want you to know. Just in case._

_"And I believe in you."_

Oliver blinks his eyes open, and moans at the splitting headache that suddenly comes down on him.

"Oow!" he grunts, and tries to move his hand to cover his eyes.

But his hand is held back, preventing any movement. What the hell? Blinking again, Oliver moves, and realizes he is slumped, held up only by huge manacles locked around his wrists. Where the hell is he? What the hell happened?

Why is he so weak?

He tries to breathe in slowly, blinking again to dissipate the fog in his mind but it's difficult. What is the last thing he remembers? He can't pinpoint anything. There are a lot of memories that come to mind, a lot of good things that he feels like he's holding on to, but nothing in particular. He remembers two voices. They're soothing and good and they both fill him with a wonderful tightness in his chest.

Thea.

Thea killing Sara, he remembers that. The hope seeps away slightly, but his brain is less fuzzy. Yes, he remembers Malcolm's trick, and the ultimatum given by the League of Assassins. He remembers choosing to save Thea, whatever the cost.

He remembers dying. Oliver winces, scrunching his nose and exhaling painfully.

Dying hurt. And apparently, after life hurts too. Is he in hell? Is that what this is? A massive headache worse than a hangover, and being locked up in a… Room? With manacles? What is this, some red room of pain?

There's the sound of a door being unlocked, then someone behind him enters the room discreetly.

"Oh. You're up and quiet, does that mean we're feeling better?"

Oliver knows that happy taunting voice and groans.

"Yeah, I'm in hell."

The chuckle that follows confirms his idea.

"You wish," Malcolm says. "Though if you don't like me anymore, it probably means that you're not as crazy as before. Not going to lie, I'm a little bit sad, I feel like we had a connection or something but hey. All good things must come to an end, even I know that. Though Thea might have liked our weird friendship of sorts."

Craziness? Friendship? What the hell?

His brain focuses on his sister though.

"Where is Thea? What did you do to her?"

"Relax. She's safe. Though I would assume that she's angry at me considering that I wasn't exactly available while I was babysitting you, what with thinking that you're dead and all."

"What?"

Nothing makes sense, everything still aches. Oliver winces in pain, and tries to stand a little straighter to relieve his poor articulations.

"Yeah, I should mention that. Everybody thinks — and rightfully so — that you died, killed by Ra's Al Ghul."

"_What_?"

That's what he thought though. He had died. Been dead. Then, how is he standing and breathing, and listening to this nut job?

"Yes, that was kind of a bummer for everybody, obviously. Anyhow. Now you're all better, so I guess all those tears shed were for naught. Better that way than the other way around if you ask me."

The truth is, Oliver has so many questions he doesn't even know where to start. Why would everyone think he's dead if he's alive? Why would Malcolm kidnap him and keep him locked up? How the hell has he… survived? Resurrected?

What the hell?

And why would Malcolm save his life when he's done so much to ruin it and set him up in the first place?

How long has he been gone for anyways?

So many questions. Too many.

His brain hurts.

"Let me down," Oliver begins with.

Sounds like the most logical thing. Get out of there. Figure the rest out later. Then he should probably kill Malcolm, just for the sake of everyone.

Malcolm circles around to face him, and presses his lips together, thinking hard.

"I don't know. You might still be a little nuts."

"You're one to talk, you crazy son of a bitch."

Malcolm quirks an eyebrow, smirking in amusement.

"Yeah, we're definitely not friends anymore. I liked you better full of hatred that I could fuel. You are a great person to come to if you want to find revenge plans, Oliver, I never would have thought that. Hong Kong and Amanda Waller sure taught you interesting stuff though Russia is where you really dug in that torture slash heartless knowledge wasn't it?"

Oliver's very fragile bravado falls off his face. He mentioned Hong Kong _and Russia_? How?

"Did you torture me?" he asks, his head falling to look himself over.

He's wearing pants and a shirt, but apart from a certain soreness, he doesn't feel too beaten up. And none of his clothes have any blood on them. Malcolm rolls his eyes.

"You ask the wrong questions."

Oliver clenches his jaw, and breathes through his nose, trying to keep calm.

"How am I not dead?"

"Ha! That's better!" Malcolm exclaims giddily. "How do you think Ra's has survived all these centuries?"

Oliver's face must show his shock because Malcolm laughs a little.

"What, you didn't know? That's why you rushed over there to fight! Ra's is a few centuries old. And he has survived many battles, many wars, and all through decades thanks to his Lazarus Pit. There are a few across the globe, but two that I know of. One in Nanda Parbat where Ra's stays…"

"And one by the mountain," Oliver understands. "That's why it's sacred."

"Ding, ding, ding!" Malcolm claps approvingly. "Why do you think he fights in specific places? In case something goes wrong, Nyssa can always give her old man a bath and boom. He's fine."

Yeah, that's creepy.

"The Pit resurrects people?" Oliver blinks, baffled.

"It can resurrect, or heal grave injuries. But it only works once, except for Ra's, for some reason."

Oliver tries to make sense of what Malcolm is telling him, confused, while the older man looks miffed at the knowledge that Ra's masters something that he obviously doesn't. Oliver finds that he legitimately doesn't care about any of it.

"Hold on, you followed me to the mountain?"

Malcolm shrugs but his smirk stays intact. "I couldn't very well let my daughter's half-brother die. Again, I mean. What a terrible thing for a father to do."

Oliver's brows knit together in alarm. "You really are a crazy nut job. Why does she still think I'm dead then if you didn't want to hurt her?"

"Well, I wasn't a hundred percent sure it would work, so I didn't exactly see the point in giving her false hope. As for your friends… Well, let's just say I don't care enough. Was that too harsh? That sounded harsh."

Oliver's eyes widen, as a thought suddenly comes to his mind. Thea and his team think he is dead… But…

"How long was I dead for?"

Malcolm rolls his eyes and makes an annoyed sound with his tongue.

"Again, wrong question, Oliver. It's not a matter of how long you were dead. It's a matter of how long it took you to heal. And that took a while. See, the Pit only allows people to survive for a reason. Hope. You found hope so you resurrected — took your time, by the way. Then it turns people crazy with visions of the opposite of who they are. All that hope disappears, and you drown in all the bad for a while, until you find your way back again."

Oliver frowns again.

"That's what happened to you after I drove an arrow through your chest two years ago? You really died, then?"

Malcolm blinks, taken aback, then chuckles with pride.

"I was more agonizing than completely dead, but yes. I paid someone a lot of money to take me to that mountain and drop me in the Pit. Then, apparently in my frenzy, I killed him and a few other people," he shrugs off-handedly, like it's a slight detail.

"How can a man like you have hope?" Oliver spits, torn between rage aimed at Malcolm's crazy plans and wild manipulations and relief at being alive.

"Our hope has the same name, Oliver. Or, at least, one of them. Your girlfriend, I don't give a damn."

Oliver thinks he manages to keep his poker face at the mention of his "girlfriend". But he can't believe he shares something positive with this wacko.

"Thea? Your _hope_, the thing that made you come back was _Thea_?"

"The hope that your mother lied when she said she was Robert's, yes. That's what brought me back, what I held onto when I was in the Pit."

Oliver's stomach clenches making him sick. The man suspected all that time? And he never did anything until Tommy died? Oliver needs to get out of here, away from this crazy psychopath.

He realizes, he wants to go home. And he has a very specific idea of where that is, it turns out.

"Let me out."

He doesn't want to go home. He _needs_ to. He thinks back to Diggle when he opened his door and let him and Roy in with Lyla and baby Sara. He remembers Thea's offer to come live with her, to share a part of her life once more. He holds onto dear life to the memory of Felicity's voice in his ear.

_"Come home."_

Again, Malcolm stares Oliver down, his lips pressed together, considering.

"Well, there's a few matters we need to discuss first. Like… How the League will know you're alive and that I helped you. Ra's will not be delighted with my… 'survival instincts', let's say. We have only postponed the matter. We need to take him out."

Oliver's stomach twists in knots as Ra's peaceful words (was it a prayer?) as he killed him echo in his head, but he manages to snort, disgusted.

"The man literally killed me. Excuse me if I'm not rushing to go through that experience again."

"He won't give you a choice. Which means we'll need to team up."

Oliver's eyebrows raise on his forehead, and he full on laughs out loud. He can't help but flashback on these past weeks, feeling like he's done this a few times during that time. Laughing out loud. How good does that feel…

"Yeah, the two people scared shitless of Ra's Al Ghul are going to take him down. It's not like the man has an entire League of crazy fighters or a badass daughter to defend him."

"Daughter_s_. Nyssa has a sister, Talia. That one is even meaner."

Oliver smirks wryly.

"Yeah, okay, I think I'd rather keep a low profile."

Malcolm arches an eyebrow.

"What, you mean hanging up your hood? And then what? It's not like you're inconspicuous on a daily basis either, Oliver Queen."

Oliver stands fully then, pulling on his chains and leveling Malcolm with a furious glare. He has had enough. As far as he knows, he was stabbed through the chest by a massive sword, pushed off a cliff, only to be resurrected by his arch-nemesis and handcuffed for weeks while everyone he loves thinks he's dead.

He needs a break.

No, he _deserves_ a break.

He wants to see Thea, and his team.

He wants to see Felicity.

He wants more than that.

For the first time in forever, Oliver doesn't care about the consequences, he doesn't care about what his being alive does. He doesn't care about Malcolm and the League, he doesn't even care about Ra's Al Ghul. He just needs to see the ones he cares about, the ones he loves, and tell them that even if he doesn't remember his time away he misses them.

So right now, he has no patience for Malcolm's tricks and games and manipulations. He will fight him to get away from there. Amanda Waller didn't break him down then, when he was all alone and lost. Malcolm Merlyn sure won't now that he has so much to fight for, so many people to come back to.

"I'll figure it out. Let me out. Now."

Malcolm rolls his eyes and sighs. "Fine. I'll give you some time to come back to life, but this conversation is not over. Be sure to mention my good deed to your teammates. I think your girlfriend has been looking for me and monitoring my whereabouts this past week. It's really annoying."

As Malcolm walks towards him to unlock the manacles, Oliver can't help a grin of pride.

That's his girl.

* * *

Malcolm frees him quickly and disappears, not without informing Oliver that he's been gone for a little over a month and that Thea is currently at her place. He has no idea what day it is, much less what time it is, and Oliver finds that he doesn't care. He's suddenly standing in a street in a part of the Glades that isn't far from Verdant and he realizes that he doesn't know what to do.

Last time he came back from the dead, he'd gone to the U.S embassy in China, informed everyone that he was Oliver Queen, and then things had unfolded in something he'd found "logic". He guesses his family had been warned by the FBI or something, then doctors had taken care of him… He doesn't remember much of that period but he remembers that things were pretty easy. Or as easy as it is when you're keeping major secrets and coming back from the dead.

How is he supposed to come back now? If Thea knows that he died, what story was fed to her? He misses Thea and wants to hug her until he can't stand anymore, keep her against him and promise her that he'll never disappear on her again (because he won't) but the practical part inside him is warning him that he can't very well do that. He needs to know the cover story.

Or so he tells himself.

Because since he woke up, Oliver has forced himself to push one name at bay. The feeling of craving that knots his insides is almost unbearable, but now that he has found a good reason not to go back to Thea first, he doesn't see why he can't go to Felicity.

She thinks he's dead, and it's somehow worse. He told her she would never lose him. He'd told her he would be back, he had something to fight for, that he loved her, and she told him she didn't doubt him, didn't doubt his ability to come back. In a way, Oliver feels like not only has he disappointed her, but he has failed her. And he doesn't really know how to come back to her. How to tell her that everything's fine.

What if she has moved on? What if now is the time to completely disappear, leave everything behind and start over, or at least let his friends start over?

The thought is dismissed as quickly as it enters his mind. Even if he wanted to, he could never stay away from Starling. Or from Felicity. He couldn't when he didn't have feelings for her. Now that he's completely in love with her, addicted to her hope and her innocence, how is he supposed to let her go?

But for the first time, Oliver feels unsure. What is he supposed to do? Show up at her place, and shout "surprise!" when she opens the door? Call her and try to explain? But with what phone?

He doesn't know where to start. Should he go to her place? Should he wait for her at the foundry? Isn't the foundry his home? What if they've left it after his death? Oliver shakes his head. He doesn't have time for what ifs and questions and most of all, he doesn't care. He wants his family. He wants to be back in the world of the living.

He doesn't want to be dead anymore.

* * *

There are three more cameras covering the back door of Verdant, he notices. There are no angles that aren't covered, which partially reassures Oliver because it means that they have kept up the good fight (which doesn't surprise him at all) and in part worries him because why would they need to up their defense?

The code has been changed, but Oliver remembers the procedure to override it in case of an emergency and he's glad to see that Felicity hasn't changed the entire security measures. That she didn't defend the team from him, since he's the only one with that overriding code.

The door opens and Oliver welcomes the tight feeling in his chest, unable to prevent a true smile from spreading across his lips when he enters the dark room that smells like the Arrow Cave (he'll never tell Felicity that he has been using the moniker in his head otherwise he'll never hear the end of it).

The place looks lived in: there's Roy's mess in a corner, a few of Diggle's weapons laying around. He notices that the glass case he had installed for Barry is now inhabited by a black leather outfit that surprisingly resembles Sara's. Oliver frowns as his heart clenches: surely, Felicity hadn't decided to become a fighter and follow Sara's footsteps? But as soon as the thought enters his mind, he understands that Laurel is the one who now has a case for her, a place in the team.

Oliver doesn't know how that makes him feel yet, but he soon forgets it altogether because his eyes fall on his Arrow suit, still encased and a little used — like it has been worn. Diggle must have stepped up in his stead — now that thought makes Oliver chuckle because he knows how much his friend loathes the outfit he calls a "Halloween costume".

Unconsciously, Oliver turns and there it is. The desk, empty from its usual owner. His heart squeezes hard, his breath hitches and his hand clenches unconsciously. Something's wrong though, and he doesn't know what, he can't pinpoint what bothers him. The desk is exactly how it used to be: with three screens linked to multiple servers and external hard drives, a few random pages spread around with a bunch of pens.

His eyes fall on a red one and he knows instantly what's wrong, why he's frowning.

The fern is gone.

He doesn't know why, but it feels important and it stings a little.

Mechanically, his eyes roam around the room, looking for the plant and soon enough, he spots it in a hidden corner close to the spot where Diggle keeps his stuff. Oliver is bending over to get it and look it over (he doesn't recognize the pot, is it a different one?) when a beeping noise rings in the empty cave and footsteps follow.

"I'm there," Roy is sighing to someone, but Oliver is hidden away from his view at the moment. "I'm telling you, no need to be discreet no one is smart enough to override your codes, Felicity."

Again, Oliver's lips are drawn up unconsciously. Almost immediately, before Oliver can do anything, another person joins Roy on the top of the stairs.

"She called you too?" he hears Diggle's voice say.

Oliver can picture him, gun drawn before him, eyes roaming around to find evidence of someone having broken in. He hears them walk down the steps, Roy carelessly while Diggle is a little more guarded.

"Yeah. Look Felicity everything is exactly how we left it yesterday, I promise."

Oliver finds himself smirking at Roy's slight annoyance mixed with teasing. Every time he hears her name though, his heart skips a beat and goes into a frenzy. Every time her name is pronounced, there are bolts of electricity shooting through his veins and his back prickles with excitement.

He's going to see her. He's going to see her, and everything is going to be okay.

And then Roy spins on his heel, spreading his hand and turning on himself as if to show and prove that they're alone when his attention catches Oliver and the words trail off, his eyes widening like saucers.

"What the…?"

"Hey," Oliver smiles softly, feeling a little self-aware and unsure for some reason.

Diggle suddenly appears in his peripheral view and his reaction is so similar to Roy's that Oliver is really close to bursting into laughter.

When did he become so _happy_?

Diggle's arms fall down a little bit, his face displaying his complete awe, and Oliver feels like he needs to say something.

"So… I'm not dead."

There's a beat of silence only broken by Felicity's voice in Roy's receiver (but Oliver can't understand what she's saying) and then Roy picks up his slack jaw and blinks rapidly.

"Everything's okay," he articulates, his eyes unmoving from Oliver, "but you're going to want to come to the Arrow Cave immediately."

Oliver makes out the screeching "What? Why?" that Felicity utters but Roy cuts the conversation off immediately and goes to take a step in his direction, a smile slowly illuminating his face. However, Diggle's has morphed into a frown and his arms are up again, holding Oliver at gunpoint.

"Prove to us you're Oliver."

Oliver chuckles, amused. "Well, I'm the only one who knows the overriding code to get here. And honestly, who would come back from the dead and show up in their father's foundry immediately after?"

"I've seen weirder stuff," Diggle exclaims grumpily.

Oliver frowns too, surprised by his friend's reaction.

"What are you doing?" Roy asks Diggle, and Oliver relates.

Well, that's awkward.

So much for the happy welcome home reactions he'd come to expect.

"What if it's not Oliver? What if it's somehow a fake, and we're being duped?" Diggle presses, his eyes barely leaving Oliver to cross Roy's.

"Who on Earth would want my life?" Oliver counters, still wondering why they would expect him not to be real. "Though you're probably right, after the mirakuru soldiers, an evil doppelgänger doesn't sound too farfetched. Okay."

Oliver looks up, searching for something to prove his identity that only Diggle would know.

"I gave you the slip seventeen times before you learned my secret and to save you I had to feed you what you call my 'magical herbs' — which are not magic, need I remind you —"

"Oh my god, it's him. He's so anal about the non-magical-ness of his herbs!" Roy cuts in, throwing his hands in the air.

"They are _not_ magical, Roy!" Oliver thunders through clenched teeth, and forcing himself not to roll his eyes.

Seriously? He's back from the dead for ten minutes and this is what they badger him about? Though the Pit apparently _is_ magic. Which his mind won't wrap around, Oliver must admit.

"Okay, that face, not even an evil doppelgänger can imitate," Diggle deadpans.

"What face?" Oliver wonders.

"The 'I'm so tortured inside, and annoyed at the same time'. It…" Diggle stops, then barks out a happy little laugh. "I actually missed that face."

A corner of Oliver's lips lifts into a joyful grin, as Roy skips towards him.

"So can we hug him, now?" he asks, already stepping in his direction.

The hug is forceful, and it drowns Diggle's cheery. "Yes!" It's quite short though because soon, Roy is stepping back and John is taking his place, one arm wrapping around his shoulder, the other around his waist in a strong display of friendship.

"Holy shit man. Where have you been? What the hell happened to you?"

Oliver chuckles too, a little giddy with happiness and feeling cheerful at the sight of his friends.

"Yeah, that's a long story."

"You weren't dead the whole time?" Roy presses, worriedly.

"Well, technically…" Oliver begins but he's interrupted when something shatters behind John and all heads turn.

Felicity is standing by her desk, mouth agape, rooted to her spot in utter shock, having just walked in by the outside backdoor Oliver used twenty minutes earlier. The sound that startled them is the one of her tablet falling to the ground and bursting into pieces. Soon, her purse drops in surprise too, the contents spreading around her in a cluttering mess.

It sounds corny even in Oliver's mind, but time literally stops when he sees her and he feels like he's only now taking his first breath since he fell off that cliff. His eyes soften instantly, and he takes a step towards her involuntarily, his body moving of his own accord, only to stop when Felicity takes a shuddering step back.

If the fern's disappearance stung, the step actually _hurts_.

But her eyes are so wide, her hands held so close to her chest that he quickly understands that she's not really reacting to him. It's not about him, he realizes. But he doesn't see what it could be about. Didn't she miss him?

"Felicity…" John begins soothingly.

Something's wrong, Oliver picks up immediately.

"It's real," he adds. "He's not dead."

Felicity opens her mouth, but nothing comes out of it and she seems on the edge of a massive panic attack, so Diggle walks up to her and grabs her shoulders gently.

"It's him. He was just beginning to explain. Can you listen to the explanation?"

What the hell is wrong with her?

Oliver's eyes can't leave Felicity's terrified ones as she nods very slowly. John nods too, gathering Felicity's things and stuffing it back into her purse, and turns to face Oliver, standing unconsciously between him and Felicity in a gesture of comfort and protection.

Oliver frowns, confused. Is John really protecting Felicity from _him_? What the hell did he ever do to her? What happened?

"Okay, _that_, I didn't miss," Roy mumbles to himself, but he's standing close enough that Oliver can hear him. Obviously, Diggle doesn't.

"What the hell happened to you? We thought you were dead, man."

Oliver acquiesces and forces himself to tear his attention away from Felicity, knowing that now is not the time for explanations between the two of them. He wants more than anything to be alone with her, but he can't blame his team for wanting explanations. Hell, even _he_ needs some.

Clearly.

"I was," Oliver says, and shudders when he sees Felicity sink on the chair besides her as Diggle moves to stand close, leaning against her desk. "But I'm okay now," he can't help but add upon seeing her reaction.

Her eyebrows are so high on her forehead, he doesn't think she can look more stricken. The sad thing is, it's not even funny, she seems to be on some sort of psychological break; like she's afraid of blinking for fear that he might disappear.

"Ra's was…" Oliver clears his throat, ill at ease. "I was no match for him. He killed me."

He spares them the gory details, more for Felicity's sake than his other friends'.

"Then how?" Roy begins, as Diggle opens his mouth.

"Malcolm."

He notices Felicity's hand reaching behind John's back, hanging onto something that he can't see as she looks even sicker than before. Her quietness, more than her shock, is what worries Oliver. For the life of him, he cannot remember a time when she was this quiet for so long, as if completely unable to choke out even a sound.

What the hell happened? Isn't she happy to see him? Was he wrong all this time to think that they had a connection?

Laurel was rightfully mad when he came back, but why would Felicity be this cold?

"Are you okay?" he asks Felicity in concern.

John slides a glance in her direction, unable to hide his own apprehension, but smiles comfortingly.

"You just came back from the dead, Oliver. Give her some time, okay? What were you saying about Malcolm? Thea said he's been AWOL."

Thea. How has he forgotten about her in the past hour? Guilt squeezes his heart, just like the sight of his shaken-up favorite girl and Oliver takes a breath, forcing himself to head back on track.

"Yeah, he's been taking care of me," he begins, then frowns. "I think."

"We're going to need a little more than that, Oliver…" Diggle sighs.

"I know. Me too. Malcolm says he plunged me in some magical Pit but it makes no sense. Apparently, Ra's is centuries-old if that's even possible, and he doesn't die because of that… Pit-thingy. Malcolm knew there was one where we were fighting and he took me there to… resurrect me, I guess? I don't know, it doesn't make a lot of sense honestly."

"What, so you don't have magical herbs but you come back from the dead thanks to a magical _swimming pool_?" Roy deadpans, suspiciously.

Oliver levels him with an irritated glare.

"I don't know! I'm just telling you what Malcolm said. One moment Ra's stabbing me through the chest and pushing me off a cliff, the next thing I know I'm coming to myself chained up in a building a few blocks away from him and it's four weeks later. The only thing I remember in between are a few visions that I think were memories and then I was coming out of the Pit or something, and Malcolm was waiting for me."

He hears Felicity's gasp when he mentions his death and shuts his eyes because, so much for sparing her apparently, but Oliver doesn't have time to make it better for Roy needs answers and he needs them now.

"Why wouldn't he save you before you were actually murdered?"

"Says best case scenario I killed Ra's. Worst-case scenario he resurrected me. He didn't really want me to die, said he wouldn't do that to Thea."

John snorts at the same time Roy shrugs as if that made things much clearer.

"And what, he let Nyssa tell us that you're dead, but doesn't even bother to reassure his own daughter? She thinks you're dead too! Unless…?"

"No," Oliver cuts, "Malcolm confirmed that he didn't tell anyone I'd survived. Come back to life. Whatever. Look, he might have saved me but he's still completely insane. He said he didn't tell Thea because he wasn't sure I would get past the four weeks of craziness. Apparently, coming back from the dead takes a toll on your mental stability."

"You were crazy?" Roy exclaims.

"Or so he says. I don't know, it's very fuzzy. I only remember the good things."

"The good things?" Diggle tilts his head.

"Yes. The memories that made me come back."

He smiles as his eyes fall immediately on Felicity, unable to prevent himself, and misses Roy's quiet "oh" of understanding. She stays frozen, but he notices the slight tremor in her body and again the worry and the guilt creep in.

"Sure," Diggle clears his throat, ignoring the moment. "So you're… good? Not dying? No after-effects to the craziness and the Pit?"

He shrugs.

"Not that I know of. I feel fine."

"Shouldn't we be running some tests?" Roy asks, throwing a glance in Felicity's direction, clearly expecting her to take matters into her own hands.

"And look for what?" Oliver scoffs. "Magical cells?"

"Maybe you're like Barry now," Roy thinks outloud, clearly put off by all the magic of the situation. To be honest, it doesn't sit well with Oliver either but he knows he's alive and that's enough for him — he can't bring himself to care about anything else.

"I can't run faster than I used to."

"Maybe you can do something else!" Roy pushes.

"If what Malcolm told him is the truth, he was brought back from the dead, Roy," Diggle groans, annoyed. "What more do you want?"

Roy pouts a little bit and shrugs again, slightly miffed while Diggle keeps going.

"Don't you think it was more of a near-death experience or something? And you… 'hallucinated' the… 'Pit'? Malcolm could have saved you and used the holes in your memory to manipulate you. It wouldn't be a first… And near-death experiences are usually very traumatic."

Oliver is pretty sure he was dead alright, because falling off a cliff will do that to you and he vividly remembers the pain of the blade as it tore through his chest, and how he choked on his own blood, but Oliver knows John and to be honest, he probably wouldn't believe himself if he hadn't lived it.

So he half-shrugs like it doesn't matter, and smiles.

"You might be right. I don't know, we'll have to ask him. I'm pretty sure he'll be back to make my life miserable in no time."

"What do you mean?" Diggle frowns.

"I think I'm supposed to keep a low profile right now. The League believes I'm still dead, and I think he fears that they will come after Thea and the two of us if they learn that he saved me and betrayed another one of Ra's secrets."

Diggle seems to understand immediately, and he shakes his head in disgust.

"So he manipulated you and your sister to save his own ass again? Let Ra's kill him."

"What if Malcolm outs Thea? I won't let anyone hurt her. She doesn't stand a chance against Ra's. As far as I'm concerned, nothing has changed: I _will_ do anything to protect my sister."

Felicity's face contorts in pain then, and he remembers their last encounter fondly.

"_And the second thing?"_

Does she regret hearing him say it? Did she hate him for saying it? Does she regret ever wanting to be with him? Should he have stayed quiet? He remembers feeling so peaceful, so confident, so sure… He's still sure, actually.

He knows. He loves her, deeply. If he even questioned it before, all the memories, all the hope that she breathes in him are testimonies of how much his brain, his body, his soul only function thanks to her, and her faith in him and her kindness.

It's cheesy, it's stupid, but it's true: He. Loves. Her. Simple as that. And he sure doesn't regret the fact that those were his last words to her. He only has one regret, and he really hopes he can turn that one around.

If she lets him, that is.

"She knows," Felicity croaks, for the first time.

It feels wonderful to hear her voice somewhere other than in his head.

"What?" Oliver splutters, confused.

"Hey!" Roy chastises. "Maybe now isn't a good time…"

"Thea knows about the Arrow," she keeps going, her eyes boring into his, gauging his reaction.

Diggle throws her a baffled look then shakes his head, and once again, Oliver feels like he's missing something. So… Thea knows his secret? And she expects him to blow a fuse?

"Laurel was in charge of delivering the news to Thea since she's the one who knew her best," John explains slowly. "Thea had a ton of questions and… well… let's just say that Laurel is as poor a liar as you are."

Oliver closes his eyes in defeat. Well. It's just as well that he didn't rush to his sister with a stupid lie. He would have never lived it down, and he knows Thea would have been even more crushed by the stories he'd have made up.

He doesn't really know what to make of the situation. It isn't how he… well, he didn't really have time to imagine it, but that's not how he wants things to go, and he definitely never thought Thea would know his secret and that he'd have to deal with it on his first day back. He doesn't want to deal with that. With any of it, to be truthful. If he had his way, he would hug his friends, tell them he'd see them tomorrow and he'd… do something (he genuinely doesn't know what) with Felicity. Hang out. Talk. Hug. Kiss. Whatever.

He doesn't want to deal with his secret life.

But: this is his life, and he doesn't have a choice. Also, if she took the news half as bad as how she reacted last year when Slade told her about Malcolm he might just wish to go back to getting killed and get it over with.

"How mad is she?" he winces, wiping a hand over his face.

Who said coming back from the dead was easy? Not him. He would know, it's the second time already, and it's not getting easier.

"It has… abated a little now," Diggle replies vaguely yet not without compassion, "but I'll take a wild guess and assume you'll be getting your ass kicked when you spring back and let her know that rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated."

Oliver grimaces.

"What does she know exactly?" he turns to Roy, who is supposed to be looking after her.

Roy explains in a few words that Oliver tries his hardest to focus on, but he can feel Felicity's eyes on him, the way she scrutinizes his reactions and he's slightly distracted. He needs time with her. Something is off and he doesn't understand and…

He misses her.

The woman seated in front of him is not Felicity Smoak, and it terrifies him.

"So you managed to keep Laurel away from avenging Sara?"

"She doesn't know," Diggle volunteers, opening his mouth to say more.

He's cut by the sound of a phone ringing that makes Felicity jump a good foot. She fumbles with the pockets of her tight skirt and takes her phone out shakily, staring at the screen like she doesn't see it.

"Yeah?" she says blandly, as if disconnected. "Oh. Now? I…" She blinks, then her face shows more surprise. "Oh! I'll be right there then."

She suddenly jumps on her feet, still hazy and confused, then looks at everyone, her fist clenched around her phone.

"I have to go," she states distractedly. "Ray needs me so he can test his suit."

"Oh", Oliver can only say. "Okay." Whatever that means.

He was really hoping she'd stay though, and panic suddenly flares in his chest because he needs her near, he needs to understand what is wrong, and how she is, but she mentioned Ray and she is already walking by Diggle who turns on his heels to see her out. As he does so, Oliver figures out what Felicity had been clinging to: Diggle's shirt. She bunched it so tight in her fist it deformed the fabric.

Oliver puts it on his list of things that worry him but doesn't say anything.

"It's ready?" Diggle asks, because apparently Ray's tailoring is something that's important to everyone now.

She nods curtly then blinks in his direction, throwing Oliver a longing look, and for a second he feels how hard it is for her to leave. He recognizes the twinkle in her eyes: it's hope. Hope, mixed with fear. The next second though, Felicity goes back to autopilot. As suddenly as she came in, she walks out of the foundry and it leaves a hole in Oliver's chest that makes him uneasy.

He has already taken a step to follow her, a "wait" on the tip of his tongue when Diggle shakes his head somberly.

"Give her some time, man. She'll come around."

"What's wrong with her?" he asks immediately. "Is she okay? What happened?"

"You died," Digg answers softly, sadly. "That's what happened."

What does that mean exactly? So he died, and she doesn't talk to him anymore? Is that some sort of punishment? Or is she not happy that he's back, had she come to terms with his death?

The questions spin in his head and make his stomach churn, making him nauseous with worry and… yes, he'll admit, some sort of eagerness. He needs to see her and touch her.

He hasn't touched her in so long.

"That, and Vertigo," Roy adds, his voice filled with guilt.

"Roy!" Digg thunders angrily, as Oliver jumps.

"_What_? She took Vertigo? When?" But the word is barely out that another one pops in his mind: "How?" Didn't he stop the new Count? "What the hell happened while I was gone?"

Diggle holds his hands up and shakes his head.

"A lot," he begins. "Yet nothing that can't wait till tomorrow. You've seen her, she's alive and she's fine."

"That's what you call fine?" Oliver grumbles irritatingly. "She didn't say a word, Digg!"

"She will now that you're back," he smiles comfortingly, like _he_, for one, actually missed this. "I'm telling you: give it some time. You _died_, Oliver. You might not remember the past four weeks and good for you, but… She does. _We_ do." There's a beat, and Diggle lets a trembling exhale out, like he's breathing again for the first time too. "We're so happy you're home, you have no idea."

Oliver smiles again and yes, he's man enough to admit that this time he's the one initiating the hug. Roy chuckles joyfully, and for a second there, everything feels good.

"You sure you're okay?" Diggle asks again.

"Yeah. I feel fine. We can run some tests if it really puts your mind to rest but I just feel… Good. Peaceful."

Diggle smiles, the one that he sported a few months back when he talked to him about things being as good as they got.

"You do look good. You look like this summer."

Oliver still feels pain for Sara's death, he still misses her and he's still angry at Malcolm for putting both his families through hell by playing games, for not letting his teammates know that there might be hope. But it's all temped down by the memories and the sensations that he basked in while he was in the Pit and that are coming back full force since he's gained consciousness.

"I should probably go see Thea," Oliver sighs. "She's going to kill me."

Diggle and Roy look a little stricken for a second and Roy eventually voices his trouble.

"Too soon, man."

"Oh. Right. Yeah, that was…" Unable to find words, Oliver winces. "You should probably come with me, help me let her know that this isn't really a joke and…"

"No, I'm coming with you because I don't want her to yell that I lied to her face again, or hid something from her," Roy cuts, a little miffed. "I'll go get the car. Don't disappear, okay?"

Oliver rolls his eyes. "I'll try."

Roy rushes in the direction of the back entrance but stops short and lingers for a moment longer, grinning eagerly.

"Digg's right. It's good to have you back, man."

Oliver smiles again, but Roy has already pushed the door and led himself out. Within seconds, he and Digg are left alone.

"How have you been?" Oliver asks eventually. "Can't have been easy for you to lead the team…"

Diggle's eyes widen a little, but he's clearly entertained by what Oliver said. "You'd think I would have been the one to lead, wouldn't you? Nah. It was a team effort, managed by Felicity herself — how surprised are you? Roy definitely stepped up and Laurel gave a solid hand…"

"Yeah, I saw that," Oliver points his thumb in the direction of the case, making a face. "How did that happen?"

"Oddly enough, it was Felicity's idea. I think she was thinking that the more of there'd be, the less chances we'd have to get killed. Of course, having two over-eager baby-vigilantes was more dangerous than just one, but you know how stubborn she can get."

Oliver smiles, trying to imagine Felicity giving directions to Roy and Laurel and finding it more difficult that he would have thought.

"Laurel took directions and followed orders?"

Diggle laughs, walking Oliver to the door, his hand on his shoulder.

"Oddly enough, yes. I'd never thought I'd say this, but Felicity was right when she brought her in. We needed the help."

Oliver smiles, surprisingly moved. "I'm glad." And he finds that it's true. He is glad that they kept up his fight, that Team Arrow didn't die along with him, that they honored him like he honors Yao Fei, Shado and Sara.

He always knew Felicity understood him deeply (she'd told Cisco to leave his hood) but John's words seal the sentiment and drive it home. For the first time in a long time, Oliver doesn't feel like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. For the first time, he actually feels relieved and completely supported.

It's the first time since he witnessed his father shoot his brains out in front of him.

"Malcolm says it's not over," Oliver admits, standing by the exit door. "That Ra's will know and that he'll come back for me. I don't think all of this is over. I'm actually worried we might have to ally with Malcolm to make sure that Thea and I stay alive."

John's face clouds immediately, turning entirely serious in a heartbeat.

"We'll deal with this as a team, then. No more going alone and fighting by yourself. That's crap, and it doesn't work. Ra's is one crazy son of a bitch, and we'll find a solution."

Oliver looks outside, his eyes landing on the car Roy is driving nearby.

"In the meantime," Diggle smiles knowingly, "when you go see Felicity later…"

Oliver tries to look innocent but Diggle's face clearly asks him who he thinks he's kidding and… well, he guesses he's not fooling anybody. He'd never fooled Digg before, so why would dying make it any different?

"Be sure of what you want and what you can offer," Digg continues, grimacing. "She's dealing with a lot of misplaced guilt and a lot of pain. I think you're rubbing off on her, when we all know it should only go the other way around and…"

"What could she possibly feel guilty about?" Oliver frowns.

"Oh you'd be surprised," Diggle grumbles. "I don't think she can lose you again, Oliver."

Oliver blinks, words escaping him and, for lack of an appropriate answer, just nods solemnly.

Who's kidding who indeed, he's totally going to see Felicity later on.

They need to talk.

[**NEXT:** PART IV — THE REUNION]

* * *

**And that's how Oliver comes back. I know, it feels frustrating because it was a little underwhelming which was my point (also: I wanted Oliver to be frustrated). I considered it for a long time and I didn't want to go the overly melodramatic way with doubts and shouts etc. Also, I wanted Felicity to have the confirmation that she's not the only one seeing him. **

**Next: roughly the same amount of words, except it's 75% of Oliver/Felicity, and 25% of Thea and Oliver, because it feels important. After all, he did sacrifice his life for her. And Thea is a fun character. I think we'll need the happy ending and banter because I don't expect tonight's episode will have that… So. Know that even if tonight's episode is sad as heck, you'll have a happy ending over there a few hours later.**

**Hopefully you liked that chapter! Let me know your thoughts! Thank you SO much for reading.**


	4. Part IV — THE REUNION

**So I was right: none of what I wrote actually happened in the episode, which is not a problem with me! (actually, I honest to god don't understand how Malcolm went through all this trouble not to keep up with the outcome of the fight. The guy had contingencies for the Undertaking but waited three days to pop up to the mountain that was apparently two hours away? Sorry. Just… I'm baffled.) Anyhow: this is a wrap, guys! Another story done, thank you so much for joining in on the fun and leaving reviews! It means so much. Hopefully the end story won't disappoint. Again, thank you to Mawwaw and Lily Anthea.**

**THE SECOND THING**

**PART IV.**

**THE REUNION**

The reunion with Thea is… Eventful to say the least. It's a wonderful batch of mixed-reactions. It begins with a scream of happiness ("OLLIE! OH MY GOD I can't believe this!"), then a shower of warm tears and sobbing hugs ("This is," sniffle, "the best", sob, "déjà vu ever…"), followed by a punch in the shoulder that makes him wince and a few shoves filled with anger ("You're a jerk, you know that? A lying, miserable, stupid jerk!").

Poor Roy has to leave within minutes because the Louboutin heel that Thea throws barely misses him when Oliver cleverly ducks. The man is brave enough to fight thugs and criminals, but scatters when Oliver's baby sister throws a hissy fit. Oliver doesn't mind, though.

He honestly finds it endearing.

God, how he missed his feisty little sister.

"How dare you use my safety to keep secrets while you promise honesty and lie to my face over and over!" she's yelling thirty exhausting minutes later.

But then she takes him back into a hug and her shoulders shake so hard Oliver almost can't hold her. He kisses the top of her head, reassured by her presence, and smiling despite himself at the memory that flashes in his mind.

"Hey Speedy, remember when I was going to college and you didn't want me to go?" he wonders quietly.

"No," she sobs.

"It was something like a few weeks before my prom and you were crying, asking me to take you with me and since I couldn't take a seven year-old along to a college dorm, I promised you I would always take your calls."

"Yeah, I remember that," her muffled voice mumbles in his shirt.

She doesn't say it, but he can tell she also remembers that he never failed on that promise. Every time she called, he picked up. Even in the middle of a class, he would duck under the table and whisper that he was listening.

"I couldn't imagine a moment when you wouldn't be that innocent and adorable. I still don't want to. That thought… That need to protect you, it's in me. It's always been in me," he explains softly, and Thea has quieted a little, her face turning so her cheek rests against his chest. "I'm sorry I died, but I won't apologize for that. Not when I came back thanks to you."

"What?" she stutters, moving to look him in the eyes.

He explains again how he was resurrected thanks to outside help, someone disagreeing with the League, and how the Pit works, while Thea's eyes fill up with more tears and her arms tighten around him.

"I don't care," she grumbles against him when he's done. "You're not allowed to die anymore, much less for me. I'll fight my own battles. Dying twice is enough. I don't care what they say, third time is _not_ a charm."

Oliver can't help but chuckle, drinking in his sister's obvious affection and happiness upon seeing him. They settle on her couch and hang for a good part of the afternoon, and he lets her alternate her reactions (cry fest, fit of sourness, warm hug. Repeat).

"I'm so happy you're alive," she sighs eventually, her voice still shaky. "FYI, I'm probably never letting go of you from now on, just in case you pull another death on me."

Oliver chuckles.

"Roy said it was too soon to make jokes about it."

"Pft! Since when do you make jokes? And if I don't make jokes, I'll go back to crying, would you rather I cried again?"

"I don't know, you've been drenching that shirt pretty well so far…"

"Speaking of crying, how did Felicity react when she saw you?"

He leans back, unable to hide his surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I assume I wasn't the first one you rushed to when you came to yourself, since you came in with Roy. And I legit have no clue how she would be reacting. She was so devastated, hoping against hope that you were alive… she must have been crushed with relief and happiness… But since you're here and not jumping her bones, I'm assuming that she freaked out and doesn't believe it's real?"

Oliver blinks, fazed by his sister's insight.

"When did you guys become such close friends?"

"We aren't," Thea counters, looking strikingly guilty. "I just…" she shrugs, and grimaces. "It's kind of obvious. And we bonded this past week, over the various fights we had over how she wouldn't let me join your team."

Well, he needs to build a shrine to Felicity because even over his dead body Thea wouldn't be allowed to become a member of Team Arrow. Ever.

"Damn right you aren't."

Thea rolls her eyes in obvious dismissal. "We'll see about that."

"It's already seen, discussed and decided. You're not joining the team. I already don't like that Malcolm's been training you."

And he loathes the fact that letting Malcolm in led them to such a dire predicament. Oliver can't bring himself to tell his sister what she did under Malcolm's influence. He knows that eventually, it might come out, but he is thankful that his friends managed to keep that horrid truth hidden, that they spared his little sister.

Even if that comes back to bite him in the ass in a few days.

"It has come in handy, you know," Thea replies slyly. "What with crazy vigilantes with a leather fetish attacking me for no reason…"

Oliver would chuckle if he wasn't thinking about the video Malcolm made him watch of his baby sister killing his ex-girlfriend, replaying in his head on a loop.

"I mean it Thea."

Thea smirks, uncaring, and the glint in her eyes lets him know that she's going to say something devious. If the glint isn't enough, the wiggle of her eyebrows are a sure sign she's about to make a wisecrack.

"Would you rather debate about my fighting skills or go see your girlfriend and celebrate your resurrection in the biblical sense of the term?"

Oliver rolls his eyes, annoyed. "Felicity is not my girlfriend."

"Yeah, tell that to your face when you talk about her."

He throws her a pointed look, but it's barely heartfelt.

"Come on, even your face knows you and her not being together isn't right. What gives? She knows your secrets, she has your back way more than anyone would even when you were gone, and she missed you so much it was actually painful to look at her."

"Thea…"

"I know. None of my business. I guess I'm just asking… What the hell are you still doing here?"

His eyes fly to meet his sister's, but it's not shock or astonishment, it's… hope. That damn word and feeling again.

"What, you thought I'd be pissed? I was only half-kidding about never letting you go," Thea shrugs. "I guess I can share you with Felicity. I like her. And she looked like she needed a good hug. Which is not a euphemism for… You know. 'Cause… _gross_."

Oliver blinks, and wraps his arms around his sister in thanks.

"You're the best, Thea."

"Oh, I know," she grins. "Also, I kind of owe you for dying for me and I owe her for… stuff… so… Go. Right now. And don't hesitate to spend the night over, okay? Just send a text that says you're still alive."

Despite feeling intrigued by Thea's feelings towards Felicity, Oliver decides to push it for another time as he shoulders his jacket in a smooth move, and heads towards the door, barely stopping to pluck a kiss on the top of his sister's head.

"A guy dies twice in less than ten years…"

Thea winces, but she still looks amused.

"Roy was right, it's too soon for you to joke about it. Now go. I love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

So, going back to Thea was surprisingly easy, all in all. Oliver sort of knew what to expect of her. Technically, none of her reactions were a big surprise and she was right about the déjà vu of the situation. Also, beyond the fact that it felt good to be accepted as the Arrow by his last living relative, it was also easier because Thea was transparent about her feelings.

But now that Oliver is sitting in his car outside Felicity's house, his nerves are getting the better of him.

When he met Felicity, Oliver took delight in the fact that he never knew how she was going to react or what she was going to say. She was a wild card in the best possible way, and she was never threatening. Now, he finds himself worrying that her reaction won't be the one he hopes for. What if she rejects him? What if she doesn't want to see him, what if he broke her beyond repair and she tells him he should have stayed dead?

Diggle and Thea both repeated that she's happy he's back, and that she needs time but Oliver feels like he has none. He knows Malcolm is only letting him come back for a little while and he knows he won't ever be able to keep enough of a low profile to escape Ra's.

He might die all over again, and the truth is, he doesn't want to. Or, if he does, he wants to feel accomplished; he wants to die without regrets. He wants to die old, surrounded by family.

His last thought was of kissing Felicity, and he remembers vividly the warmth of the memory but also the longing and the slicing pain of regret. He died wanting more, and knowing that he failed her.

"_Just the thought of losing someone that important to me again…"_

"_Hey. You're not going to lose me."_

He didn't keep his word. He told her he'd come back, and he took too long.

"_But I do know two things. You are not alone. And I believe in you."_

She believes in him. _She_ never failed him. Oliver takes a deep breath, and decides not to let his fears talk him out of it. He needs her, he wants to be with her, and he died with too many regrets to add another one to his list.

His decision firmly made, Oliver gets out of the car and crosses the street to her town house. The lights are on, and he hopes to god that she's alone, that Ray isn't with her, and that they didn't start something while he was gone. That he didn't need a suit to take her out on a date or something.

The thought alone makes his hands moisten as he knocks shakily on her door.

Well. Whatever, he'll fight for her. For them.

If she wants to.

Holy shit, what if she doesn't want to? What if she thinks he's more trouble than he's worth?

Before he can fully freak out though, the door swings open to reveal a stricken Felicity.

She's taken her hair down and dropped her glasses, but she's still wearing the same tight skirt and orange blouse as earlier in the day. Without her heels, she's way shorter than he is, which forces her to tilt her head up so her blue eyes can meet his and in that instant the rest of the world fades away in the background, non-existent.

Oliver's entire universe zooms in on the beautiful blonde who is gazing emotionally at him, her eyes betraying a confusing turmoil and he finds himself rooted to his spot, unable to move as Felicity's teeth sink in her bottom lip, hesitating.

"Hey," he murmurs, a hopeful smile lifting a corner of his lips.

Her hand falls from the door limply, and he dares attempt to step in her direction when suddenly she moves and crashes against him, her entire body collapsing against his, her arms circling his neck as his slip around her waist and his mind is taken back in time once more.

"_But I do know two things. You are not alone. And I believe in you."_

His eyes are prickling, his throat clogged with emotion. It's her. He's not alone — he hasn't been in a long time, not since he let her in — and she still believes in him. She doesn't need to say the words.

He understands her reaction, and what Diggle has been trying to tell him.

Felicity was crushed because she was waiting for him to come back this whole time. And he hadn't.

His hands close on the small of her back as her fingers slide in his hair, keeping his head in her neck and he breathes in, taking in all of her, everything that makes her who she is. His hope.

God, he missed her.

"I'm sorry," Oliver chokes, but he doesn't know if she hears him because his throat is too tight.

He doesn't even know what he's apologizing for exactly. He's sorry for dying. For being an idiot. For not being a better fighter. For making her wait this long to come back. For not enjoying what they had more.

Felicity doesn't say anything, but her embrace is suddenly tighter and Oliver closes his eyes, basking in the perfection of the moment. He has her in his arms. And it's all that matters.

"I'm so sorry," he repeats genuinely, turning his head and nuzzling her cheek, feeling all the tension and the worry disappear from his muscles when her scent fills his nostrils and her warmth seeps into him.

He feels Felicity take a deep, shaky breath and steps back to let her look him over, as her hands begin to move, sliding from his head to his neck, to his shoulders and his forearms, as if to make sure that it's all there, that she's not dreaming.

"I'm here," Oliver murmurs, when Felicity's hands retrace the same path the other way until they cup his jaw and her thumbs caress his stubble.

He lets his forehead fall against hers, making her stumble against the wall of her house and she closes her eyes. She's shivering, he notices.

"I'm here," Oliver repeats, his own hand sneaking up to seize her cheek.

She leans into his touch instantly, as she always does, and his heart clenches, stutters, bursts.

She's still here. She's still her. He hasn't lost her, and the knowledge shakes him to his core.

Felicity opens her eyes to meet his, and they're not watery, or hesitant or shocked. They're feisty and spirited, and decided. She looks at him like never before and suddenly the air around them is charged with a tension that wraps around them, slowing time to the point where they both feel like it has stopped.

Felicity's thumbs still against his skin, making him want more instantly, and as the seconds tick by her breathing becomes slightly erratic, or maybe it's his, because he knows exactly what's going to happen in the next moment.

In the end, they move at the same time, their mouths meeting in a searing kiss that they don't even try to keep chaste for a second. It's a fierce collision of lips and limbs, Felicity's hands sliding along his neck, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake, so she can fist his shirt and bring him closer to her while one of his sinks in the skin of her waist to drag her against him and the other directs the angle of her head so he can deepen their embrace.

He can't help but think that this should have been their first kiss. Under her porch, filled with passion.

Not in a hospital corridor as they broke up. He's such an idiot. He was so desperate then…

Well, he's pretty desperate now too, but it's a different kind of despair, more like a feeling of how he has nothing to lose, just everything to gain, and it's… exhilarating.

Pressing Felicity against the corner of her entryway, kissing her senseless is exhilarating and Oliver thinks he could do this forever. He has to make up for all the time he has lost, for all the times he didn't kiss her when he wanted to, to erase all the regret that mashes his heart.

Soon, he feels Felicity move, sliding against the wall and through the door, dragging him by the shirt and somehow managing to keep them stuck to each other from mouth to hips as their feet tangle in a clumsy dance. It takes all his brain power to remember that he needs to shut the door behind him, and Felicity takes the opportunity to press his back against it immediately, her mouth moving from his lips to skim his cheek, kiss his neck, as her hands roam over his chest hungrily.

Her name escapes his lips and she suddenly stops, jerking a little in his arms, her fingers stilling on his hips and digging in painfully. Oliver blinks, surprised by her reaction and tenses too.

What did he do?

"I love you too," she utters from his neck in such a tiny, strangled voice that he's almost convinced he imagined it.

What?

"_Too_"?

What is she talking about?

Oliver pushes her delicately so he can see her eyes, and his breath catches in his throat. Her blue orbs are red rimmed, and tears are pooling there, sending a bolt of pain to his chest. Before he can say anything though, Felicity is breaking down and speaking again.

"I don't care if you're a vision…"

Then her head falls on his chest as she hugs him tightly and Oliver's heart shatters. At a loss of words, he can only wrap his arms around her, crushing her against him and kissing her head over and over again.

Did she hallucinate him? Oliver remembers Roy's words about Vertigo, and Thea's remarks and he understands. He hasn't forgotten what he'd seen when he was injected earlier in the year. He wishes Felicity hadn't been in the same situation but now is probably not a good time to talk about it. She was under Vertigo at some point in the past four weeks and she thought she was seeing him when he really wasn't there.

He wasn't there, Oliver repeats in his mind, gulping. He was trying to fight his way back to her, but he hadn't been quick enough.

"I'm not," Oliver whispers in her ear. "You're not hallucinating. Look at me, Felicity."

He cups her cheeks tenderly, forcing her face up so their eyes can meet and leans his forehead against hers once more.

"I'm real. I'm back."

She closes her eyes, shaking.

"You said it would be fine," she murmurs.

"_It'll be fine. I'll come back."_

"_I know."_

"I know, I'm sorry."

"It wasn't fine," she sniffs, her eyes still shut. "It's not fine. It's horrible."

"I'm really sorry," he says again, but he also knows that there are no words that can soothe her right now.

He feels her fists tighten on his shirt, pulling it the same way she did when he kissed her goodbye on her forehead and he exhales shakily. She's still not looking at him.

"I'm back," Oliver murmurs, bending his neck to kiss her lips, his hands settling around her neck, trying to prove that she's not losing her mind. "I'm alive, Felicity. I promise."

* * *

Before the knock on her door, Felicity was sitting on her couch, staring at nothing and trying her hardest not to play over and over again what she had seen in the afternoon until she left to see Ray. The truth is, from the moment she saw Oliver's log override the protection of Verdant to getting back to Palmer Technologies by taking a cab (she doesn't even remember driving to the Cave), Felicity has stopped reacting and pressed pause on her brain.

Thinking would lead to realizing that the whole time, for the past three to four weeks, Oliver was alive somewhere, resurrected and her mind can't wrap around it. Beyond the fact that resurrection is not a thing, there is also the knowledge that ultimately, every fear that has been keeping her awake at night has become true and everything that Oliver told her when she was under Vertigo was right. She failed him. She didn't believe in him enough.

So when the knock disturbed the complete quietness of her house, Felicity kept the autopilot she'd pressed earlier in the day and opened it without thinking. She'd frozen, unable to tell if she was under Vertigo again.

And then Oliver tilted his head, grinning like he had that first time and saying "hey" like nothing had happened and she figured: she doesn't care. If Vertigo makes her see this Oliver, if it's so good at replicating his actions, his tones and his smiles, then she doesn't care whether it's a hallucination or not.

Next thing she knows, they're kissing outside her house, her back digging into the concrete of the wall and she remembers that they're outside, and that if she's going to jump off the edge she's going to do it right. If she's riding a tidal, euphoric wave, you bet your ass that she's going to ride it until she crashes, falls; until there's nothing left to take from her.

Also, she's pretty sure that if Oliver were alive, he wouldn't let her jump him this easily. She's pretty sure that he would run away from her, tell her that he doesn't want to cause pain, or whatever, or that it was too traumatic to even begin a relationship. Oliver coming to her place the day he comes back? She doesn't buy it. Maybe it's a general hallucination — maybe Digg and Roy are hallucinating too.

But then he says her name, and she doesn't know anymore. Because she's not sure if her brain can imitate the softness of his voice when he does that. She's not sure even a drug can mimic the notes of emotions that he puts in each syllable, depending on his mood and she stills.

What if it's true? What if Oliver really is here, what if she dodged Diggle's calls for nothing this entire afternoon, what if Oliver wants to be with her and craves her like she's craved him for the past month?

She remembers suddenly her promises and her regrets and if he's alive… if all of this is true, is real, if she's really been kissing him and touching him, then she owes it to herself to tell him the truth. She loves him too.

God. She loves him too. He needs to know.

So she tells him but she still can't discern between fantasies and reality, she can't be one hundred percent sure that she hasn't lost her mind entirely… And she squeezes her eyes, telling the voice in her head to shut up.

"I don't care if you're a vision…" she tells him, because she really, really doesn't.

She can live with being crazy if she gets to feel him. Oliver looks stricken though. Appalled, hurt, broken even. She goes back to hugging him so she doesn't have to see the pain.

"I'm not. You're not hallucinating."

Repeating her name, he demands that she looks at him, forces her to and speaks softly, the velvet of his voice wrapping around her, making her feel warm for the first time in over a month.

"I'm real," he vows. "I'm back."

But it's too good to be true, isn't it? She doesn't get second chances, does she? And what if she wakes up in the morning and he isn't there? What if she's hallucinating the whole thing and there's no coming back?

"You said it would be fine."

Everything was supposed to be fine. He was supposed to come back immediately, victorious; he was supposed to save everyone. He wasn't supposed to die and come back once she'd given up hope.

"I know, I'm sorry."

Are there tears in his voice? Is he in pain? She can't take his pain.

"It wasn't fine. It's not fine. It's horrible."

He apologizes again, his warm palms sliding from her cheeks to her neck. Finally, the heat spreads through her, the touch grounds her. She's not the one initiating anything this time. Oliver is speaking, softly, kissing her tenderly, trying to convince her.

"I'm back. I'm alive, Felicity. I promise."

These two words do the trick. The two words make her open her eyes, and accept reality.

"_I'll come back."_

"_Promise me."_

Oliver wouldn't promise unless it was true. He just wouldn't.

Oliver keeps kissing her softly yet stubbornly, until Felicity's hand curves around the top of his head, to keep him close, and opens her mouth invitingly, letting him in completely.

Thankfully, Oliver doesn't wait or need more encouragement. He keeps on kissing her, his tongue darting inside her mouth to seek hers in a wonderful caress and Felicity lets go completely.

He better be alive.

She feels like she is coming back to life herself, because he sure tastes like Oliver and smells like Oliver, and feels like him when he touches her, when he speaks to her, except he's lighter somehow and… It's intoxicating.

Felicity is lightheaded, dizzy, her mind spinning at a crazy pace that, for the first time in a month, doesn't make her sick. The spinning is getting her excited, like the rush of a wonderful drug she doesn't mind getting addicted to.

Before anything can escalate though, Oliver pulls back gently, and offers her his shiest smile. They're both breathing heavily, and taking a moment to let reality sink in.

"Okay?"

She smiles too, letting her head lean into his hand.

"You were alive this whole time?" she gulps, trying to wipe the guilt of out her voice.

She can tell Oliver hears it though.

"No. And then I wasn't myself for a while, and Malcolm was dealing with me. I'm fine, Felicity. I don't remember the bad parts, and there's nothing you could have done…"

"I should have known," Felicity cuts in, taking a step back out of his embrace.

She misses him instantly.

"Somehow, I should have… I don't know, _felt_ it."

Oliver follows her, catching her arm and shaking his head.

"No. Felicity, I _was_ _dead_. Ra's was too strong, no one could have helped me. Not Digg, not Roy. No one."

Her body begins to shake. Nothing makes sense. How could he have died, and then come back? And she knows how he died. The description alone is horrible, how can he be so fine after dying that way? Should she even question it?

If she wasn't desperately in love with him and praying every night for his return, the situation would feel like a Trojan horse for Felicity. But she doesn't feel ready or capable of looking such a perfect gift in the mouth.

He died alone. The simple thought breaks her heart further.

"I'm okay," Oliver repeats, sensing her hesitation, "I promise I'm fine. I don't feel weird. I'm just… I missed you."

Felicity blinks. This should be the proof that he isn't okay. Telling her how he feels? Is he dying again?

"I missed you too…" she confesses, then closes her eyes, her brain going at a million miles an hour, overwhelmed by a thousand questions that she can't process quick enough. "I'm… this is a lot to take. I don't…"

Felicity's legs stop working and she sinks in her couch, trying to understand everything. What is she supposed to say now? Or do? How can she feel so happy and so anxious at the same time? Why does it still feel like she doesn't have him back, like it's not completely real? How does life start over when you come back from the dead? The last time he did that, Oliver came back to his family and began a crazy quest. Except he hadn't really, actually died.

But what is different now? Why isn't he with Thea?

"What are you doing here?" Felicity asks, eventually.

"What do you mean?" Oliver frowns. "I'm… I wanted to see you, see how you were, you didn't seem okay earlier…"

Her mouth opens as she blinks in surprise.

"Well, no, I'm sorry, I haven't exactly been okay lately, what with you telling me you love me and dying brutally."

His face shuts off and she winces. Holy shit. She did _not_ just say that.

"I'm sorry," Felicity says immediately, eyes flying to meet his in worry and genuine apology. "I'm being unfair, it wasn't what…"

"It's okay," Oliver begins.

"No, _no it's not_. I'm so happy you're back. You have no idea," she shuts her eyes, and grimaces as she plants a finger on her forehead and wishes for the ground to open under her, "or actually you do, considering the fact that I mouth-attacked you… Sorry about that… and the whole… melt down thing. That was mortifying."

She buries her head in her hands and moans because fuck her life. The emotionally-unavailable man she loves helplessly comes back from the dead and, really, the first thing she does is sexually assault him?

But she freezes when Oliver chuckles.

"I'm not."

"What?"

"I'm not sorry about the 'mouth-attacking' part," Oliver shrugs, grinning a little bit. "I'm sorry if it puts you in an awkward position though…"

Felicity's eyebrows rise on her forehead in puzzlement. What is he talking about?

"Awkward position? Because I mouth-raped you?" she snorts self-deprecatingly. "I think I gave up on my dignity when you caught me staring at you on the salmon ladder. Repeatedly."

Oh nice, it had been a while since she'd had that foot-in-mouth cringe-inducing problem. Apparently it really is something that Oliver brings out in her. She'd done fine until now, but poof. Five seconds with him in the same room, molesting him and she's back to her usual awkward spluttering-self. She sure hadn't missed that.

"Mouth-raped? Really?" Oliver laughs. "I meant awkward towards Palmer."

His eyes are planted in hers, as Oliver once again pulls the rug from under her feet.

"What does Ray care if I sexually harass you?" she frowns.

Oliver tries to keep his façade, like he showed his hand or something, but Felicity thinks dying made him an even worse liar. Which is saying something, considering the man tried to make her believe he carried hangover-cures in syringes.

"Hold on, you think I'm dating _Ray_?"

One of his shoulders lifts slightly, timidly and Felicity jumps to her feet, mouth agape, shocked with disbelief and actually stammering again. Why would he think she's dating Ray? What the hell does Ray have to do with anything?

"I wouldn't blame you. You guys seemed cozy after your work dinner," he has the nerve to grumble, albeit a little sheepishly.

In the back of her mind, Felicity feels heavily guilty when she realizes that Oliver died thinking that she had feelings for Ray — but she can't deal with that right now.

All the anger that Felicity has been keeping inside her for the past month, the rage and the bitterness of the injustice of Oliver dying bubble back inside of her and surge forward upon hearing his guilt-laced-yet-accusatory-words. Is he fucking serious right now?

"You mean the night you told Cutter about how you couldn't be with someone you really cared about and it was so difficult to watch that woman from afar while unable to be with her? The night you decided to stop dangling maybes?"

Oliver clenches his jaw and looks away, in a typical Oliver move that makes Felicity's head fall backwards, while a low, bitter chuckle escapes her throat. He's been right this entire time: he feels fine and is absolutely no different.

She's. Such. An idiot.

"Oh my _god_ Oliver. I swear, if you weren't just coming back from the dead I would slap you. How dare you?" she pushes him across the chest, upset.

"I'm sorry," he begins, looking genuinely sorry, but Felicity doesn't care that he's sorry. She's been sorry for the past month, begging for him to be back and the first thing he does when he returns is mope about a stupid kiss that meant nothing and that he never confronted her about? "You left when he called to do something with a suit and I just assumed…"

"You assumed what?" Felicity spits, shoving him again, aware that he's letting her (and a little thankful for it). "That when Nyssa dropped by to deliver your stuff and tell us you'd been _murdered_ I just thought 'oh well' and jumped into bed with the first guy to pay me a little bit of attention?"

Oliver's eyes darken with something she can't identify. She doesn't know if it's guilt, if it's jealousy, if it's annoyance or arousal, she honestly has no clue and she doesn't care. A slight, disturbing part of her is reassured by this surprisingly normal interaction for them. Oliver being an idiot? She knows her way around that guy.

"No, of course not! But I wouldn't blame you if you did!"

"Oh well _thank you_ Oliver Queen, I'm so happy I have your blessing," Felicity cackles, pushing him again but this time he doesn't let her, catching her arms to stop her. "No, really, thanks. I'm glad you think all of this is okay. I mean, who doesn't tell a woman he loves her, doesn't give her a second to even say it back, _dies_, then comes back to tell her it's good she moved on! That's what you meant by 'I love you' wasn't it? Because if that's what it is, I don't want to be a woman that you love. I don't want to be, because you do all these things, and you say them, and then you _die_, and you leave the people you love behind like they won't care and…"

She can't say anything else, the words getting caught in her throat as her vision becomes blurry.

"I'm sorry," Oliver whispers, his fingers still wrapped around her wrists. "That's not what I meant."

"Which time?" Felicity replies irately.

He looks up, gulping and grimacing. "Touché."

All the fight, all the nervous energy, all the relief crash suddenly over Felicity and she feels completely, irremediably drained. How did they go from reuniting, from kissing like crazy people to fighting about their feelings and throwing accusations? Who does that?

But can she really blame him though? Maybe she should have forced him to listen. Maybe she should have run after him that day, and told him that she loved him too. Maybe all his doubts, his death, this entire situation is on her.

Felicity clenches her jaw, letting her forehead drop to his chest and fights a shudder. He's here. Why can't they just be happy that he's here?

"I was wrong," Oliver suddenly admits quietly.

Felicity blinks, her shoulders sagging.

"Which time?" she repeats.

She knows Oliver is smiling, there's a little movement in his chest as his abdomen contracts, and he lets go of her wrists so he can go back to wrap himself around her. She's surrounded by his smell, he's not pushing her away (a first!) and she forces herself not to think about what happens next.

It's just one night, she figures. He's just going to be with her one night, to need her one night, and then he'll go back to being a hero, and heroes don't have girlfriends. Heroes like Oliver are emotionally unavailable and dying won't help.

Nothing has changed. She knew it from the get go, back when she was hoping against hope that he could return somehow. And she'd promised herself that if she got him back, if somehow a miracle happened and he came home, come back to her, she wouldn't ask for more. She can't go and be bitter because she got what she asked for.

He's back. But nothing has changed.

She should be okay with it. She can be okay with it. She'll take the one night.

"Every time," Oliver replies finally.

Felicity pushes away, looking up at him and his eyes are glinting, taking her in as one of his hands brush a lock of hair behind her ear and cup her cheek.

"You were my last thought," he confesses softly.

If it wasn't entirely broken already, she thinks that sentence would have finished to destroy her soul. She was his last thought? Felicity's heart stops, her breath catches and she freezes, her head suddenly dizzy. Oliver sees the shock on her face and rushes to explain.

"As I… When I died, my parents, Thea… they flashed before my eyes… and then it was you, that kiss in the hospital… And my only thought was: why was it only once?"

She tries to gulp, but she can't. Felicity is aware that she's full on crying, and there's no way she can stop this time. He died regretting his life choices? He died thinking it should have been with her? Her body starts shaking. Surely, he can't be admitting what she thinks he's admitting, right?

"And then I was in the Pit, and that I remember. To come back to life, I had to focus on hope. So a few memories popped up, things I'd forgotten from when I was a kid, all of it linked with Thea. But then…"

She thinks back to the look he threw her way when he mentioned the Pit the first time in the Cave. Recollections. Of her.

"Then it was only memories of you. Of how you made me feel. Of what you aroused in me. Your support, your kindness, your smile… it was all wrapped into so many various memories I couldn't even pick one. It was your love that brought me back, Felicity, and the necessity for me to make it right."

Her fingers have joined his on her cheek, but they're cold and numb with emotion as he smiles so tenderly at her that she forgets to breathe.

"So I was wrong, and I'm not going to dangle maybes anymore. You and I? We're happening."

Felicity blinks while Oliver's eyes suddenly narrow as he thinks back on his words.

"If you're okay with it, I mean."

She thinks she's going to faint. She's totally tripping. There's no way this is happening. Did she die too? Did she slice her wrists that night when she took Vertigo and actually die and join him?

"Felicity?" Oliver is asking, worry lacing his voice.

"I think I'm having a seizure."

"What?" he blinks, looking stricken with alarm.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're saying," Felicity elaborates. "It sounds like you want us to… be together?"

Relief spreads over Oliver's face yet he somehow manages to scowl at her.

"Okay, I guess I kind of deserve that."

The sad part is, she's not even kidding about having a seizure. He comes back from the dead, lets her kiss him, accuses her of cheating on her non-existent boyfriend, then tells her he wants to be with her and regrets pushing her away all this time?

What does it say about her that she feels like all of this sounds too good to be true?

"Are you being serious right now?" Felicity wonders breathily.

Oliver smiles fondly, like he actually thinks she's being adorable. "Yes."

His confidence freaks her out. Felicity's heart is beating so hard in her chest, her mouth is suddenly dry and she doesn't remember how to fill her lungs steadily. Honest to god, she thinks this is the beginning of a panic attack.

"What if you regret it?" she voices immediately, what little is left of her brain filter melting away in an instant. "You said yourself that you thought all of this wasn't over… Malcolm is going to come and Ra's will know he didn't kill you… I can't… Oliver, I can't go through this again."

He looks at her carefully, staying quiet for a moment as if giving serious thought to what she has just said and Felicity wants to take it all back. Is she really doing this to herself? He's offering himself on a silver platter and she actually considers saying no? What the hell is wrong with her? What about all these nights praying for a miracle? All these promises to whoever listened that if she got another chance, she'd do it differently? Had they been that empty?

Is she _really_ that scared?

But Oliver seems as decided as she felt earlier that night when he showed up. He looks as serious as he does when there's an Arrow-related problem, when ghosts from his past show up to haunt him, when he tells her he loves her and there are cameras filming them.

If it weren't too soon, Felicity would say that Oliver looks dead serious.

"When the bomb went off last October and I saw you bleeding and passed out… You have no idea what it felt like Felicity. It was Tommy and Shado all over again and I… I freaked, because being happy meant being careless and putting you and Starling in danger. But like I said, when I died, none of the regret was linked to actually being with you. The only regrets I had were holding myself back. Having nothing to look back as Oliver Queen and thinking that I was right. I'd saved my sister, but that was it and it wasn't as satisfying as I would have liked. Because I wanted more. And I still do."

He licks his lips quickly, nervously, his eyes expressing all the seriousness of his words, all the sincerity he felt at that moment and Felicity feels completely overwhelmed. It's the first time she's given Oliver an out and he hasn't taken it.

Actually, she's wrong.

He hasn't taken any of them since he first told her he loved her.

How hadn't she noticed it before?

"You are right, everything is still a mess." Oliver takes a breath, and seems to brace himself a little bit. "Ra's might kill me, again." His mouth opens, wobbles a little, like he's looking for the right words, like he's desperate to convince her not to give up on him. "I don't know about you, Felicity, but if that's going to happen, I don't want my last thought to be how I should have pursued you harder, or how happy we could have been."

How is it possible that they've been feeling the same? The tears are back again, but she doesn't realize it, her lips turning slightly upwards.

"Now if you don't want to, or can't…" Oliver begins when she stays quiet another second.

Felicity doesn't even listen to the out he's offering, she pushes herself to the tip of her toes, her hands grabbing his shirt and kisses him on the mouth.

No out. Nope.

Screw consequences, screw everything. She's never known how to protect herself from him anyway so why even attempt to start now?

Felicity might be terrified by the idea that the way that he lives means he might be ripped away from her. But ultimately, Oliver is right (she can't believe she's actually thinking that). She's too far-gone to consider not being with him. And if he dies (again), or if she does (it's possible too, she hears), she doesn't want to have regrets.

The worst part wasn't just the hope, it was also the thousands of 'what if' scenarios that she couldn't help but come up with.

"We could have been happy," she'd cried to Digg a week earlier. And she knows, deep down inside, to her core, that she was right. For the first time in forever, Oliver and her are on the same page about their relationship. For the first time, Oliver agrees that he wants to be happy.

"Okay," Felicity agrees eventually. "But you better not be dying anytime soon. Again."

Oliver smiles fondly again, and for the first time Felicity thinks she gets a glimpse at Ollie. Ollie, the young carefree boy who grinned all the time. He seems so weightless yet so strong at the same time, she wonders once more if she's dreaming and her fists tighten on his shirt of their own accord.

"Don't you have to go home?" she whispers half-heartedly.

Oliver's grin turns from happy to shy in a beat, leaving Felicity in awe.

"Thea said she's willing to share me with you."

She thinks her face actually shows her delight upon hearing the words, but Felicity doesn't attempt to quell any of it.

"Spend the night?" she offers, then sputters quickly. "Platonically, of course." Her mind skips a thought as she frowns. "Or not if you don't want to. I could…"

"No," Oliver laughs, bending his head to kiss her chastely. "I don't think any of us is ready for that just yet."

Felicity doesn't tell him that she was born ready, but she thinks it really hard and considering Oliver's face, he might have figured her out. She settles for taking his hand and hiding her blush by dragging him to her room.

It's only a few moments later, when they're both laying in her bed facing each other (platonically, for now) that the reality of the situation finally hits Felicity and her brain resets. There are so many conflicting emotions fighting within her, she doesn't know what to do with them. On the one hand, she's terrified that all of this is still too good to be true, that she's on something, that she'll wake up in the morning and Oliver won't be there. On the other, the relief and his warmth have seeped into her entire being and her eyes are finally shutting of their own accord, telling her body that she can finally rest.

Oliver smiles tenderly when he notices, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear soothingly.

"Go to sleep, Felicity," he orders gently.

"'M'not tir'd," she mumbles, blinking quickly to fight off her exhaustion.

"I will be there when you wake up. I promise."

Felicity blinks again, sneaking her hand inside of his and interlacing their fingers, squeezing as hard as she can so she's sure she's not dreaming already. Oliver's other hand comes to caress her head, his lips falling on her forehead and pressing a fierce kiss at the exact same spot as a month before.

Felicity's eyes drop shut but her heart beats louder for a second and she can't help it. Just in case he's not here in the morning, she needs to ask.

"What's the second thing?" she whispers.

She feels Oliver's lips spread in a smile against her skin.

"I love you," he murmurs, pulling her against him.

Felicity sighs and squeezes his hand once more.

"I love you too."

[**THE END**]

* * *

**So I know a lot of you wanted to see Thea's reaction after she infected Felicity with Vertigo and saw her reaction. It was slightly brought up in her scene, but I don't think she would have wanted to talk about it to Oliver: in the end, it would be a discussion either Felicity should have with him or Thea should have with Felicity. Writing a scene from Thea's point of view would have been starting a brand new fic at that point, which wasn't what I wanted to do. Hopefully, her "emotions" were clear enough. The story was more about Team Arrow (mostly Diggle/Felicity) dealing with Oliver's death than Thea or even Laurel. So I hope the lack of deep insight wasn't too disappointing.**

**As for Oliver and Felicity, I considered turning the rating to M but it honestly didn't feel right, they just didn't feel ready. Ultimately, it wasn't about sex either. It was about them fixing their mistakes and giving themselves another chance. Hopefully, I did it justice.**

**I hope that story made you happy and entertained you! Thank you so much for reading. I really appreciate it.**


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